Thomas and Friends - Original Stories
by DDandT6
Summary: This is the home of all of my stories 2018-onward. Enjoy! TODAY: Sidney the Forgetful Diesel becomes very confused when he keeps seeing the same black tender engine and comes up with his own odd conclusion in "The Teleporting Engine!"
1. One for the Books

**ONE FOR THE BOOKS**

* * *

Despite not being owned by The Fat Controller himself, Samson still regularly visits the railway to aid in odd jobs. Whenever he does, the engines are often less than pleased to see him. This isn't without reason - Samson is a very egotistical engine, and thinks very highly of himself.

One day, Samson pulled into Knapford Station with a smug smirk on his face.

"Hello, engines of Sodor! It is I, Samson, the strongest tank engine any of you will ever…"

He trailed off, realizing that hardly anyone was in the station. The only engine that was there was James, who didn't seem too interested in talking.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, disappointed, "I thought I was going to get a welcoming party!"

"Everyone has more important things to do than have a party for you every time you show up," James snapped.

"That's not true! I'm very important! I-"

"Ssh, or I won't hear driver!"

Samson was about to retort when he noticed a crowd of people on the platform surrounding James' driver, who was sitting on a crate with a red book in his hand. James grinned as the driver looked down at the book and began reading from it dramatically.

"And off went James. Stations and bridges flashed by. The passengers leaned out of their windows and cheered, and soon they reached the terminus. Everyone said, 'Thank you, James.' and the Fat Controller said, 'Well done, James. Would you like to pull the Express sometimes?' 'Oh, yes please'!"

The driver looked up at the station clock and gasped.

"Sorry, folks, that's all for today."

Everyone clapped and began to disperse. James beamed.

"Thank you, thank you. He missed the ending with Gordon, but I'm alright with that. It's lucky my amazing adventures were documented in this book."

"Especially the one with the bootlaces," the driver chuckled. James glared.

"I thought we agreed never to speak of that again."

"What is going on?" Samson demanded, "Why does that book mention your name?"

James' driver flashed the cover of the book. It had a bright picture of James rushing through the countryside, his smart red paint sparking in the sun. Above it printed in large text was "James the Red Engine." James smirked as Samson struggled to find words.

"Jealous, are you, Samson?"

"Of course I am! Why do you get a book and I don't?"

"Because I'm such a splendid red engine," James grinned, "Everyone wants to learn all about me, not to mention see me in these lovely photographs. That's why _my_ sales are the highest."

Henry pulled in with a local train and had heard everything.

"Oh, shut up, James. Your book doesn't have the most sales."

"And how would you know? You're just jealous that The Thin Clergyman likes me more than you!"

Henry snorted.

"Pah! He's said publicly he disliked writing your book the most thus far. That shows something, doesn't it?"

James' face froze with horror.

"Come on, James," said his driver as he clambered into the cab, "We have to go to the photo shoot."

To his surprise, James said nothing as he puffed away. Samson was more puzzled than ever.

"Thin Clergyman? James? Books? What were you two on about?"

Henry raised an eyebrow.

"So you haven't heard?"

"No, I have not! Is James the only one to have a book?"

"Perish the thought," shuddered Henry, "Most of the engines that have been here since the early days have had their own book written about them. Edward, Duck, Gordon… Even Oliver will have his own soon, or so the The Thin Clergyman says. He's the one who writes the series, you see."

"Do you think that… possibly, I have my own book too?"

Henry thought for a moment.

"I know all the books, and you weren't in a single one of them." Samson's face fell. "Besides, if you did have one, I'm sure we would've heard from you already," he added wryly.

Samson's sadness quickly turned into anger. He let off steam furiously as he hurried away. Henry rolled his eyes.

"I should've seen that coming…" he muttered.

* * *

As he headed up to Ulfstead Castle, Samson could think of nothing but his apparent lack of his own book.

"It's not fair! Who does this 'Thin Clergyman' think he is? Not giving me a book! Huh! I deserve one more than

does, that's for sure!"

He was still fuming when he pulled into the castle station. Stephen and Millie sat close by, eyeing each other curiously.

"You can ask if you like," whispered Millie, "but I'm not going to get my funnel bitten off."

Stephen sighed and rolled up to a dejected Samson.

"What's the matter, Samson?"

"Oh, you wouldn't understand, seeing as you probably have your own books like everyone else but me does," groaned Samson mournfully.

"Do you mean that series of books called _The Railway Series_?" Stephen mused.

"Yes! I think…"

Stephen began to laugh.

"There's no need to feel ashamed, Samson! I don't have any books in that series either!"

Samson was surprised.

"You don't?"

"Certainly not!"

"But Stephen, I thought you had other books about your history," pointed out Millie, "I recall the Earl reading them to tourists a few times."

Stephen chuckled.

"Oh, yes, I've forgotten about those!"

Samson's eye twitched.

"How many books has this 'Thin Clergyman' written?" he burst out.

"Oh, er… They're not written by the Thin Clergyman, Samson, they-"

"I mean, everyone else on this whole railway seems to have at least one book, and yet I don't! Why?!"

Stephen and Millie winced.

"Ah, you may not be in a book, but you will receive a very special job!"

Samson, Stephen and Millie looked over in surprise to find the Earl walking along the platform. Samson instantly became more cheerful at the prospect.

"Oh, thank you, sir! What is it, sir?"

"I need you to collect two vans in that siding over there," the Earl explained, "They're filled with photography equipment meant to be taken to Tidmouth for a special photo shoot! I've been asked to supply it by my good friend Wilbert, and of course I was happy to oblige!"

"What's it going to be used for, sir?" Stephen inquired.

"Why, I'm glad you asked! Wilbert is going to be making the cover for the newest _Railway Series_ book that's being published very soon! Oh ho ho, isn't that exciting?"

For once, Samson was speechless!

* * *

Soon, Samson was coupled up to his train, and was already grumbling dreadfully as he set off. Stephen and Millie watched him go, quite relieved.

"Taking _two vans_! Two vans! To a photo shoot for a series that I'm not even a part of! It's undignified!" Samson complained.

"What's the matter, Samson?" giggled the first van, "Don't you _want_ to be important?"

"No! I mean, uh, I already am! It's just that Thin Clergyman doesn't see it my way!"

"Maybe he doesn't think your adventures are that interesting," suggested the second van innocently.

"Not interesting? I've had plenty of interesting adventures! Like, um…"

"Oh, like taking coaches up to the quarry!" put in the first van.

"Or almost scrapping the Fat Controller's car!" added the second.

"Don't forget the time he took _one truck_ down to the Docks! Didn't The Fat Controller order Thomas to teach you how to take _proper_ trains, Samson?" snickered the first.

The vans laughed - Samson, however, wasn't too pleased with being reminded.

"Well, er, yes… Perhaps my adventures haven't been the most… flattering."

"You can say that again!"

"Maybe that's why I haven't had a book written about me! I just need to have a proper adventure, where I come out on top! Oh, I know! I could glide into Tidmouth in style! Then The Thin Clergyman will have to put me in a book!"

"Oh yes, because that's going to work," huffed the second van, to which Samson bumped the train.

"Ow!" cried the vans.

"That'll teach you! The Thin Clergyman can put my excellent handling of trucks in my book! Hah, I'm sure people would love to read that!"

The vans glanced at each other knowingly as Samson continued to boast all the way to Tidmouth.

* * *

"Hmm… Puff back a little, James. You're taking up too much of the shot."

James grunted bitterly and reversed.

"Beg pardon, sirs, but why does James get to be on the cover when there was no story about him?" Duck asked.

The Thin Clergyman attempted to reply but James cut in first.

"Don't you take this away from me! I deserve this more than you do!"

"I don't see how this is in any way a victory," murmured Duck, "You're only in the corner…!"

" _You're_

about to be in the corner if you don't shut up-"

The Fat Clergyman stepped up, waving his arms.

"Please, stop this nonsense. You're all supposed to be smiling, like you just got the news that Oliver is going to be restored."

"It's hard to get excited when it happened such a long time ago…" huffed James.

The Fat Clergyman sighed.

"How The Fat Controller puts up with this every day, I'll never know…"

The Thin Clergyman patted his friend on the back.

"Never mind, at least our equipment will be here soon."

As if on cue, Samson puffed in with the vans rattling behind. He tried to come to a gentle stop, but instead bumped his vans again.

"Ouch! Stop doing that! We have precious cargo, you know!" the vans screeched indignantly.

Samson smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry…"

The two clergyman exchanged dismayed looks.

"Oh, dear… I hope our load isn't damaged…" The Fat Clergyman said anxiously. He opened a van door, revealing crates upon crates of photography equipment - and all were in one piece.

"Perfect!" He turned to face the engines. "Just wait a moment while we set it up, and we'll take the picture."

The clergymen set to work, leaving Samson very cross.

"They said I was clumsy! Hmph! First they don't put me in a book, then they insult how I go about my work! Bother those clergymen!"

"Hold your wheesht!" fumed Donald, "These gentlemen are very kind! Something someone th' likes o' ye would nae understand!"

"I'm very kind!" Samson said smugly, "All I'm asking for is to be given what's earned!"

"Earned? Ye're th' most accident-prone engine a've ever known, 'n' that's saying something," scoffed Douglas.

"Having plenty of accidents just shows how dedicated I am to my work!"

"And I thought James was deluded..." Duck muttered.

"I heard that!"

As the engines were arguing, the Fat and Thin Clergymen were setting up the equipment. Film was put into the camera, and everything was almost ready. The Thin Clergyman peered through lens to see how the picture would look.

"Should I get The Fat Controller to pose in front of Douglas now, Wilbert?" The Fat Clergyman asked.

"No, not yet. I want those tankers moved first."

The Fat Clergyman looked up and noticed a line of tankers behind Donald and Duck.

"Why?"

"If they're left where they are, it'll ruin the entire composition," The Thin Clergyman explained.

"I see. I'm sure we can get an engine to shunt them away."

Unfortunately for them, the only one in a convenient position to do so was Samson.

"Excuse me?" The Fat Clergyman said loudly, trying to make himself heard over Samson's boasting. Samson stopped talking at once, and glared down at him.

"Would you mind pushing those tankers, please? Preferably to the siding with the water tower beyond the buffers."

Samson grew crosser still. He wheeshed steam at the clergymen and reluctantly went off to do as he was told. The engines were agape.

"Rude engine, isn't he...?" the Fat Clergyman murmured.

"Indeed..." the Thin Clergyman agreed, his voice dripping with disapproval.

Samson was switched to the track with the tankers on it.

"Worse and worse!" he stormed, "I don't get put in a book, I don't even get to be a part of the photo shoot, and they still treat me like a servant! This is a horrible adventure!"

Unsurprisingly, Samson was so cross that he paid little attention to what he was doing. He bumped the tankers hard. The tankers had been on the siding for a long time and, though Samson didn't notice, one of them was now leaking fuel onto the rails. The water tower approached closer and closer.

"Ye ought tae slow doon, Samson," called Donald, "or ye're going to have an accident! ...again."

Samson rolled his eyes, and tried to put on his brakes, only to find that he couldn't! His wheels slipped on the fuel as it continued to leak. He tried to drop sand on the rails, but it was no use - his wheels wouldn't lock.

"Oh, no! H-Help! Help!" Samson shouted, as his attempts to stop continued to be futile.

The engines and clergymen watched in horror as the tankers crashed through the wooden buffers. To Samson's alarm, the tankers didn't stop, and the front tanker collided with the water tower. It swayed for a few moments before crashing down in Samson's direction. Water splashed everywhere; Samson was soaked from smokebox to cab. His face reddened as he saw the predicament he had gotten himself into.

"Um… oops," Samson chuckled nervously.

* * *

The Breakdown Train was soon called, and Harvey, Judy and Jerome were quick to respond. Harvey was dismayed yet unsurprised as he saw Samson smiling sheepishly among the demolished water tower and rolling stock.

"Oh, Samson, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Harvey sighed.

"That's what I'd like to know too!"

Samson gulped as The Fat Controller sternly stepped down from the Works Unit Coach.

"Samson, what were you thinking about? Now the engines won't be able to get water here until a new one is placed!"

The engines glared.

"Y-Yes, sir," mumbled Samson.

"One would think that you would've learned not to get distracted while doing a simple favour."

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just… I was so cross that I wasn't in a book like the others that… I guess I lost focus."

The Fat Controller put his hand to his face.

"Just because you're not in one of those books does not mean you can lower your work ethic in order to get one. The Thin Clergyman writes what he wants to, Samson, regardless of your 'input.'"

"Yes, sir…"

The Fat and Thin Clergymen exchanged a look and walked over to The Fat Controller. The Thin Clergyman knelt down and whispered into the The Fat Controller's ear, leading him to nod approvingly.

"That's a brilliant idea!"

"What is?" Harvey inquired.

The Fat Controller chuckled.

"Wait and see," he said and winked.

Harvey watched curiously as The Thin Clergyman strode up to the accident.

"So, Samson, I hear that you wanted to star in one of my books, do you? Well, I've considered the matter, and I've decided you quite deserve it."

Samson's face lit up at once.

"R-Really? Even after the mess that I've caused?"

"Oh, especially because of the mess!"

Samson's face faltered, confused. The Thin Clergyman signaled to The Fat Clergyman behind him. He walked alongside with his signature camera in his hands. The Fat Clergyman aimed to take the shot of Samson and the camera flashed.

* * *

Over the next several days, Samson was swiftly repaired, though he wasn't keen on heading back to work - he thought the engines would be cross with him about the water tower. As he pulled into Knapford Station, he was relieved that there were few engines there, but became crestfallen as James was once again at the platform with shining red coaches. James, however, seemed to pay little attention to Samson. James' driver knelt against the wall as he waited for the guard's whistle. He snickered to himself as he turned the pages of a dark green book. Samson took no notice, until James at last looked over at him. He could barely contain his laughter.

"Well, well, well! Look, driver! We're in the presence of the most famous engine on the island!"

For a brief moment, Samson's spirits were lifted.

"Famous?"

"Oh yes, of course!" James continued, enjoying the game, "Your picture is everywhere!"

James' driver showed off the cover. Samson turned as white as a ghost when he saw what the cover looked like. The picture was the same as the one The Fat Clergyman took of him at the crash site. Above it read…

"Samson the Silly Engine?!" Samson yelled hysterically.

"Classy," quipped James.

"The foreword is worse," the driver said, turning the page. He was about to start reading when James cut him off.

"Can I read it? Please?" he pleaded.

The driver chuckled and held the book up to James' face.

"Dear friends," James read, immediately stifling laughter, "It's lucky that this engine isn't owned by The Fat Controller, because he is one of the most horrid I've ever met! I couldn't believe just how severe his mishaps were! Samson may not be happy about me writing these stories, but I certainly had a jolly good laugh myself! The Author."

As James had been talking, more and more engines had arrived at the station. He and the others burst into laughter.

"It looks like The Thin Clergyman has a new least favourite engine!" chortled Henry.

Stephen pulled alongside a defeated Samson with a train of tourists.

"You could even say your adventures were 'one for the books'!"

Samson covered himself in a cloud of steam.


	2. April Fools!

**APRIL FOOLS!**

* * *

Charlie is a purple tank engine, who can often be seen shunting trucks in the various yards on the island. A comedian at heart, he likes to tell jokes to the other engines - with mixed results.

"Hey, James!" Charlie called, shunting some coaches behind the red engine, "What wobbles when it flies?"

James rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Just hurry up and shunt my coaches."

"Oh, don't be like that! A laugh a day doesn't hurt anyone!" Charlie cleared his throat. "Anyway-" Before Charlie could finish, James reversed into the coaches, bashing Charlie in the process. With a short blast of his whistle, James rattled away with his train. Charlie scoffed.

"He wouldn't know good comedy if it hit him in the tender…"

* * *

One early morning, Charlie was taking a train of empty trucks up to the China Clay Works. He had never been there before and thus wanted to make a strong first impression. As he pulled in, he noticed Bill and Ben just outside the shed.

"Why, hello you two!" he exclaimed, "Have I got a joke for you-"

Bill and Ben hurriedly hushed him. Charlie felt rather insulted.

"Well, if you don't want a good joke that's on you, but-"

"Will you be quiet?" Bill cut in, "You'll ruin it!"

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Ruin… what?"

"You'll see," Ben snickered. The twins giggled mischievously, before sneaking a glance at Timothy, who was still snoring in the shed. Carefully, they backed down onto him. Charlie watched curiously.

"Ready, Ben?" whispered Bill.

"Ready, Bill."

Slowly and quietly, they pulled Timothy along until he was under the coal hopper. Bill grinned and blasted his whistle, waking Timothy up.

"Huh, what? I'm awake, I'm awake-" It was then that Timothy realized where he was. He looked up and gulped. "Uh oh."

Coal poured down all over Timothy, coating him in a cloud of coal dust. He coughed fiercely, though Bill and Ben weren't too sympathetic.

"April fools!" they laughed together. Charlie's laughter was even louder than theirs.

"That was brilliant! Comedy gold! Who knew such a mindless holiday would make for such great material? Thanks, you two! I'll take note of that!"

Charlie was quickly uncoupled from his trucks and he puffed away, still laughing. Bill and Ben glanced at each other.

* * *

Shortly after Charlie had left, Edward had been called to help clear up the mess. Needless to say, he wasn't pleased.

"Honestly, Bill and Ben, I am disappointed. I thought I made it abundantly clear that I didn't want any sort of pranks from you on April Fool's!"

"But Edward, it was funny!" Bill protested.

"Yeah, you'd agree if you had seen it," added Ben.

"I doubt Timothy would agree," Edward replied shortly, "Are you alright, Timothy?"

Timothy coughed and smiled weakly.

"Just a bit of dust on my paint, that's all."

Edward chuckled.

"That's a relief." He then glared at the twins. "In any case, I better not hear about any other pranks by you two, or I will speak to your manager about it. Understood?"

"Yes, Edward," they muttered dully.

"Good, and I hope you heed my words this time," Edward said sternly and he reversed away.

* * *

Meanwhile, Charlie had arrived back at the shunting yard, feeling quite invigorated. He already had several ideas for pranks racing through his mind.

"This is going to be a very fun day!" he thought. He noticed James taking on water and pulled alongside him.

"Ugh, there you are. What took you so long?"

"Just a simple run up to the Clay Pits, James, nothing of your concern. Unless you wanted to take the train for me…!"

Some nearby trucks giggled.

"There's no way I'd pull that rubbish," snapped James, "especially not when I'm pulling coaches next. Speaking of which, you'd better shunt them for me."

James whistled and started to leave. Charlie scoffed to himself as he went to get the coaches.

"Bossy buffers… He could use a good prank…"

He stopped and grinned as he came up with an idea.

"Oh, James! Wait!"

"What now?" James grumbled, braking to a halt, "I'm not going to be late just for one of your 'jokes.'"

"It's better than that! I just remembered that you were supposed to be picking up a special passenger on this train!" Charlie explained.

"A special passenger? I never heard about that… You're not pulling my wheels, are you?"

Charlie chuckled.

"Oh, James, when have I ever lied to you?"

James thought for a moment; for all of the cracks Charlie had spewed, he had been relatively honest.

"Hmm… I see. It does make sense, after all; a special passenger would only want a ride from a really splendid engine like me!"

Charlie rolled his eyes when he wasn't looking.

"Yes James, of course. Now run along, you wouldn't want to upset him!"

James hastily raced away to the platform, leaving Charlie to chuckle as he shunted the coaches.

* * *

As James arrived at the station, he scanned the platforms for his passenger.

"Who are you looking for, James?" Thomas asked as he pulled in with his branch line train.

James wasn't listening; his face lit up when he noticed a man in a blue uniform getting off of Thomas' train. He walked to the end of the platform and climbed down to the underpass under the line.

"Oh, that must be him!" James exclaimed excitedly. The man climbed up the stairs to James' platform.

"Good morning, sir! We'll get you to your destination in no time!" James called. The man stopped and stared at James in confusion.

"What?"

"Well… you're my special passenger, aren't you?"

The man chuckled.

"'Special passenger?' What nonsense! I'm here to fix the oven at M.C Bunn!"

James gaped, cheeks flushing bright red. Before he could say anything, Charlie pulled into the station.

"April fools!" he cried triumphantly. James was speechless! Thomas couldn't contain his laughter.

"To think a 'special passenger' to you is someone who fixes ovens! How your standards have dropped, James!"

James gritted his teeth furiously.

"I-It wouldn't be funny if something embarrassing happened to you!"

Thomas took no notice, but Charlie did. He snickered to himself as he quietly rolled away.

"I think it would…"

* * *

As soon as his passengers disembarked, Thomas made his way to the yard to drop off Annie and Clarabel, still chuckling.

"That wasn't funny, Thomas!" scolded Annie.

"Well, I thought it was," Thomas smirked, "You two just don't have a sense of humour."

Thomas shunted the spluttering coaches into a siding.

"I'll be back for you two later. I just need to take some trucks to the harbour."

Thomas whistled and hurried away to find his train. Annie and Clarabel sighed, not noticing a snickering Charlie pull up alongside them.

* * *

When Thomas came back from the harbour, however, he was shocked to discover that Annie and Clarabel had gone!

"W-What? Where did they go?!"

Thomas desperately began searching the yard, stopping when he noticed Stafford getting his battery charged.

"Stafford! Where did you put Annie and Clarabel?" he asked hastily. Stafford was startled and confused.

"What are you talking about-"

"Thomas, Thomas!"

Charlie raced alongside Thomas and Stafford, panting heavily.

"Oh, Thomas, thank goodness I found you!"

"Charlie? What's going on?" demanded Thomas, "Where's Annie and Clarabel?"

Charlie heaved a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, but... they were taken away on Henry's goods train."

"W-What? Why?!"

"They had to be taken to the Steamworks for an overhaul; they won't be back for a long time..."

Thomas' face froze up in shock.

"B-But... what c-coaches will I use?"

Charlie glanced at a line of red coaches on a nearby siding.

"You could always use some of those," he suggested meekly.

Thomas, utterly devastated, reluctantly puffed over to the red coaches and took them to the station. Stafford watched him do so, even more confused than before.

"Weren't Annie and Clarabel just on that siding, Charlie?" Stafford looked around, realizing Charlie had disappeared. "Charlie?"

* * *

Thomas pulled into the platform with a dejected look. The passengers were surprised to see the red coaches instead of Annie and Clarabel but climbed aboard regardless. Just as the guard was about to blow the whistle, another whistle sounded out instead.

"What now, Charlie? A joke won't make me feel better…" Thomas mumbled.

Charlie puffed up beside Thomas and grinned.

"No, but I bet this will!"

Thomas gasped; behind Charlie were Annie and Clarabel!

"I-I thought-"

Annie rolled her eyes.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Thomas. This cheeky engine hid us in a shed! Isn't that right, Clarabel?"

"That's right, Annie," shivered Clarabel, "I think I saw a spider in there!"

"April fools!" Charlie cried and he scurried away, laughing. Thomas scowled.

"We have to couple up Annie and Clarabel!"

"Sorry, Thomas," sighed his driver, "There isn't time. We've already run late enough as it is, thanks to that purple nuisance interrupting us."

Thomas, cheeks flushed with fury, puffed out of the station. James was coming the other way with a goods train - and gave a knowing look at Thomas.

* * *

Charlie managed to sneak back into the yard without anyone noticing.

"Where did you go, Charlie?" asked Stafford suspiciously.

Charlie smiled nervously.

"Well, you see Stafford, I... had to go to the station! Yes, that's it! Turns out the stationmaster has news for you!"

"News? For me? What are you on about?"

"He says Philip and I are doing well on our own here, so you're free to head over to Wellsworth and shunt there for a while!"

"W-What? I don't think my battery can make it over there, Charlie."

"You just filled up! Surely, your battery can hold out for a few measly miles, right?"

Stafford blushed.

"Well, er..."

"Go on, it's urgent!" Charlie persisted.

Stafford wanted to protest, but he simply sighed and rolled quietly away instead. Charlie snickered.

"This'll be the funniest one yet!"

* * *

It wasn't long before Stafford started to regret his decision. The farther he went, the more he could feel the energy in his battery dwindle.

"Oh dear, this wasn't such a good idea… I just hope I can make it there," he fretted.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't. As he headed into Crosby Tunnel, his battery finally ran out. Stafford groaned, his voice echoing in the walls of the tunnel.

"Oh, bother. I should have known this would happen…" Suddenly, he gasped. "What if someone comes down the line and crashes into me? They won't be able to see me in the tunnel!"

Seeing the urgency in the situation, Stafford's driver ran to find a telephone to call for help. This left Stafford alone with his thoughts, and he only became more nervous by the minute.

"What if Gordon comes through with the express? Or-"

Just then, a loud whistle echoed in the tunnel, and the sound of an engine puffing came closer and closer.

"Oh, no! Stop, _stop_!" Stafford shouted desperately.

"What? Get out of the way!" came a booming voice in the distance.

"I can't!"

The other engine's brakes locked on. With a groan, he managed to stop, just in time. The engine's lamp shone on Stafford's face, revealing himself to be Gordon. He blinked and glared disapprovingly down at Stafford.

"You silly little shunter! You could've caused a severe accident!"

"I-I know… I am sorry, Gordon. I was told to shunt over at Wellsworth, but erm…"

Gordon narrowed his eyes.

"Who told you that?"

"Well… Charlie did, of course. Who else would tell me?"

"How about someone with an ounce of authority? That stupid engine! He tricked you, I expect."

"T-Tricked me? Why would he…" A dawn of realization came over Stafford. "...oh."

Seeing how upset Stafford looked, Gordon couldn't remain cross at him for long.

"Come on," he said, buffering up to him, "I'll push you back to Knapford."

Stafford felt extremely silly the whole way back to the yard.

* * *

Word of Charlie's prank going awry soon spread, and it wasn't long before the engines decided to hold a meeting around the turntable.

"It's disgraceful!" fumed Gordon, "He has no awareness of how his actions impact others! He could've injured my passengers!"

"Now, Gordon, you must realize it was not out of malicious intent. He just has... a different sense of humour," commented Edward cautiously.

"That's not an excuse, Edward," put in Henry, "He's gone after three vulnerable targets already." Thomas, James, and Stafford shared shamefaced looks. "It's only a matter of time before he gets even worse!"

"Aye, we've got tae stop him now," agreed Douglas, "We cannae just let him get awa' wi' this."

"Och, I say we bash the wee lad's buffers in!" exclaimed Donald angrily, "That'll show him nae tae mess wi' us!"

The engines liked this idea and started whistling in agreement. Edward, horrified, rolled onto the turntable and blew his own whistle until everyone else was silent.

"That is out of the question! We can't simply resort to violent means - it'll only make us even worse. Charlie hasn't laid a buffer on any of us!"

James snorted.

"Oh, what, because _you've_ got a better idea?"

Edward thought for a moment before chuckling.

"I think I do, James. But while I'm gone, promise me you won't do anything rash," he said, looking particularly at Donald and Douglas.

"If ye insist, laddie," conceded Donald.

"Good." Edward puffed away on a clear track, sighing to himself.

"I miss when Charlie's humour only consisted of bad puns…" he mumbled.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bill and Ben were grumpily shunting trucks around the China Clay Works. Under the watchful eye of the other engines, they couldn't pull any tricks, and the twins were growing restless.

"It's not fair. What did we do to deserve this?" groaned Ben.

"You wasted a whole load of coal on a silly prank for one thing," said a stern voice. Bill and Ben gulped as Edward pulled in, looking serious.

"W-We're sorry, Edward, honest!"

"It was Ben's idea, anyway!"

"Y-Yeah! Wait, no!"

"Now, now, you're not in trouble," Edward chuckled, "It's just that I have something to ask of you."

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"You? Ask something of us?"

"What, is it to behave?" Ben said sarcastically.

"For once, no. I… need you to pull a prank on Charlie."

The twins were most surprised!

"Charlie?" Bill pondered, "Isn't he that purple engine who came up with those trucks this morning?"

"Yes, that's him."

"But I thought you said we weren't allowed to pull any more pranks today," said Ben smugly.

"I know, I know," Edward sighed, "but Charlie's been even worse. While you've been here, Charlie's been pulling all sorts of pranks on the other engines. He's too caught up in himself to listen to advice."

Bill and Ben looked at each other, each remembering what Charlie had said that morning.

 _"Thanks, you two! I'll take note of that!"_

Bill gritted his teeth.

"How dare he! He stole our idea!"

"Don't you worry, Edward," Ben smirked, "We'll put that bloke in his place and show him who the _real_ pranksters are."

With that, Bill and Ben hurried out of the clay pits, giggling maniacally. Timothy noticed the two leaving and grew worried.

"Edward, are you sure you should have done that?"

Edward chuckled.

"It depends on what they do, I suppose…!"

* * *

By the time Bill and Ben arrived at the shunting yard, they had formulated a plan. They scanned the sidings for two particular trucks, and at last, found them - an old tar tanker and a chicken wagon that the workmen hadn't bothered to clean out.

"Perfect," Ben giggled. He was coupled up to the trucks and moved them to where their victim wouldn't see them.

"Now, where's Charlie?"

They soon got their answer - Charlie was talking to some trucks he was shunting.

"I heard he almost had a collision with Gordon! A shame I couldn't see it for myself, but I couldn't just leave the yard without arousing suspicion. You know how it is, don't you?"

The trucks yawned disinterestedly.

"Anyway, I tell you, today's been incredible! I'm making new boundaries in comedy!"

"Don't you have any jokes to tell us, Charlie?" a truck interjected hopefully.

"Pah, who needs those anymore? At least for today, though I'm not sure if I even want to be restrained by that. I'm sure everyone will love the new routine regardless!"

The trucks groaned in disappointment, though Charlie didn't seem to notice.

"How oblivious can someone be?" Bill wondered aloud.

"Ssh," hissed Ben, He trudged forward, Bill doing the same.

"Why, if it isn't the talk of the railway himself!" smirked Ben, "I say, Bill and I are _very_ impressed with what you've done today."

Charlie was surprised - he had never expected the twins to praise him.

"Really?"

"Of course!" added Bill, "Your jokes are better than ours any day!"

As the twins had hoped, Charlie became conceited once he heard this.

"Heh, I mean, I am the island's resident comedian after all," Charlie smirked, "I know a thing or two about what makes it tick."

"Oh, please teach us to be like you, Charlie!" pleaded Bill.

Charlie pretended to be deep in thought about his decision to keep Bill and Ben in suspense, but really he was improvising another prank.

"Alright, if you two promise to do exactly as I say," Charlie said at last.

"Yes, of course!" the twins exclaimed together.

"Now, we'll have to head around to someplace more isolated. We can't have just anyone knowing my secrets, now can we? How about you two go first?"

Bill and Ben winked at each other when Charlie wasn't looking.

"Actually, Charlie, why don't _you_ go first?" Ben suggested, "Only the best of jokers should."

"Hmm… I can't argue with that! Follow me!" Charlie whistled and started puffing down the line. Bill and Ben followed, seeing that Charlie was picking up speed.

"This is working out even better than I had hoped!" whispered Bill.

Charlie didn't see that the tar tanker and chicken wagon were in his way behind him! He crashed straight into the trucks, causing hot tar and chicken feathers to fly into the air before falling back down all over him. Charlie spat some feathers out his mouth and coughed.

"W-What? What happened?" he exclaimed, more stunned by the accident than hurt.

"You crashed, what do you think happened?" Bill grinned, stifling laughter.

Charlie gaped.

"You did that on purpose! You didn't want to know my secrets after all!"

"Of course we wouldn't. They clearly don't have much use," Ben snickered.

Charlie growled, trudging forward towards the twins.

"I'll pay you back, you know!"

"Come and get us then!" taunted Ben.

With a cheeky whistle, the twins hurried away. Charlie gritted his teeth furiously.

"You get back here!" he shouted and he gave chase. Charlie was so keen on paying Bill and Ben out that he didn't realize where he was going, nor did he notice that one of the twins had gone. Bill had braked on the line ahead, and Charlie stopped.

"Ha! I caught you!" Charlie proclaimed, but Bill merely snickered. "What?"

Then, Charlie looked around, and his face paled - he was right in the middle of Knapford Station! To his horror, other engines were crowding the platforms with waiting trains, quickly taking notice of the peculiar scene.

"I-I've got to get out of here!" Charlie cried and tried reversing, but Ben puffed up behind him and blocked his way. With nowhere to hide, the tar-and-feathered Charlie was put up on display for everyone to see. Laughter quickly filled the station, including Bill and Ben's.

"April fools!" the twins grinned. Charlie was speechless! A loud whistle blew and an annoyed Henry pulled up behind Ben with a stopping train.

"Bill, Ben, Charlie, get out of the way! Passengers can't hop onto the ballast, you know!"

Reluctantly, Bill started puffing into the junction so as to switch lines. Charlie seized his opportunity and raced away, leaving the laughing engines behind.

* * *

Charlie didn't stop until he reached the washdown. The cleaners looked at each other, extremely confused. One opened his mouth to say something, but Charlie interrupted.

"Don't ask…"

Whilst Charlie was being cleaned, he could do nothing but brood over the trick Bill and Ben had played on him.

"Those two humiliated me in front of everyone! Now, _that's_ not funny!"

Charlie cracked a smile as Thomas puffed past with Annie and Clarabel, not noticing their glares.

"See, _my_ joke on Thomas was funny! I mean, he may have been cross, but…" He trailed off. "Oh. Is _this_ how the others felt when I played pranks on _them_?"

"Why are you talking to yourself?" asked a cleaner, but Charlie paid little attention to him.

"No one else thought my pranks were funny except me, but that's not what comedy is all about!

Making sure all of the tar and feathers were off him, Charlie hurried away.

"What an odd engine," a cleaner murmured.

* * *

Charlie rushed down the Main Line, hoping to get back to the yard as soon as possible, but he saw a red signal up ahead and had to stop.

"Bother signals! They're such nuisances! ...hmm, actually, jokes about signals could be good for my next routine!" He sighed sadly. "If I have anyone to tell it to, that is…"

Donald rolled up alongside, purposefully avoiding looking at Charlie.

"Hey, um… Donald? I just wanted to say…"

"Pah. Ye ain't fooling me," snapped Donald. Before Charlie could reply, the signal changed to green and Donald puffed away, hissing steam at him. Charlie groaned.

* * *

Bill and Ben were on their way back to the Clay Pits, very pleased with themselves. Before they could head home, they had to stop at Wellsworth to take on water.

"Leave enough for me, Bill. You can't take the whole tank!"

"I mean, I could."

"You wouldn't dare!"

James cleared his throat from the other platform. Bill and Ben looked at him curiously.

"I never I thought I'd say this, but you two were absolutely brilliant. I only wish I'd thought of it myself."

"I suppose you aren't clever enough," Bill smirked. James scoffed and looked away.

"Settle down, you two. You've already had your fun today," called Edward. Ben chuckled.

"Did you see what we did to him, Edward? I'd say it'll take hours to clean him!"

He and Bill guffawed, but Edward was noticeably silent.

"What's the matter, Edward?" queried Bill, "You're not cross, are you?"

"You better not be. You told us to do it," snorted Ben.

"I'm not, but… all the same, I think I should go and see if Charlie's alright."

Edward headed off, leaving Bill and Ben quite surprised.

"I don't care what Edward says, I think today was one of the best April Fools Days we've ever had," said Ben proudly.

"We only pulled two pranks, though," Bill pointed out.

"They were both _brilliant_ pranks!"

"So? Remember that time Gordon thought we were going to dip him in the sea?"

"That wasn't on April Fool's!"

"It may as well have been!"

Still bickering, the twins started triumphantly home.

* * *

That night, Charlie was in his shed, lonely and miserable. All of his attempts to apologize had failed, and no one was interested in talking to him. He was therefore surprised when he saw Edward pulling up to him.

"Are you alright, Charlie?" Edward asked. Charlie snorted bitterly.

"No one will even look at me because of how silly I've been, but yes Edward, I'm quite alright!"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," Charlie sighed, "It's just, I don't know what to do now. I just want to be friends with everyone again."

"Changing your behaviour is a good starting point, which means no more tricks like those you pulled today."

"Yes, Edward, I'll never do that again. I promise."

Edward smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I doubt everyone else will, though," huffed Charlie.

"They just need some time is all. I'm sure eventually they'll forgive you. In the meantime, I better head home. Goodnight, Charlie!"

Charlie smiled weakly.

"Goodnight, Edward."

With that, Edward puffed away, leaving Charlie on his own once again. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So it seems once again that I've completely disappeared from this website for almost a whole year. I'm going to give a brief explanation for those who happen to care for the sake of it - after finishing Too Much to Handel, I made up plans for the order of future stories (hence the next few planned originally being at the bottom of the page) and everything was going pretty well. Then, things started falling apart. I lost motivation for a good few months and when I did get it back, I wasn't sure I wanted to even post my stories here anymore rather than just make them into Google Docs and share them that way. It had a lot of advantages, like it doesn't disappear after ninety days and it saves as you update so you don't lose a ton of progress if your internet cuts out. With that said, I wasn't entirely sure as I essentially started on here, so I've decided I'm going to post things on here still, but most of my pre-established plans won't really be used. This doesn't mean we're going back to the days where I shove in Hank and Thumper into some random scene, but I won't strictly be using CGI characters... probably.

About Nature vs. Nurture... It's probably on the way. I'm more than 3/4 done and it'd be a shame if I wasted what I have. I can't say when I'll actually be finishing it, but it's not dead yet.

So, with that said, where did this story come from then? I had this idea back in April and wanted to get it out by the end of the month but as always, plans fell through, but I did manage to get it done. As I sort of said previously, I wasn't sure if I wanted to post it here, but I feel like you guys deserve an update and something to tide you over so that's why I ultimately decided to publish it anyway. I'm not particularly happy with it, but then, I guess my perfectionism doesn't need to be satisfied all the time.

One more thing before I finally shut up: I do plan on rewriting or at least adjusting the previous three stories here as looking back... they could be a lot better, or at least Stanley's Branch Line and Too Much to Handel could. Unlike previous times, I think I'm gonna post the old versions as their own separate one-offs for the sake of those that somehow like those versions instead of deleting them entirely, but if you see that they turn out to be different one day, then yeah, that's why. To cap this off, I suppose I'm back, but I'm not going to be making any more promises as to what happens, so... hooray?


	3. Gordon & the Butterfly

**GORDON & THE BUTTERFLY**

* * *

One night, the engines were huddled in the sheds. A storm raged outside, wind and rain pelting the walls of the shed. It kept them awake longer than they would've liked.

"Bother this weather," grumbled James, "How am I supposed to get a wink of sleep with all this noise?" The others just ignored him and tried going to sleep again. But the storm had other ideas - a loud crash of thunder sounded nearby, catching Henry off guard. Gordon couldn't help but snicker as Henry yelped.

"Ah, still afraid of the rain, are you, Henry?"

"N-No, certainly not," retorted Henry, still a little shaken, "The thunder just startled me, that's all."

"Hmm, 'startled', yes. What was it they used to say? Once, an engine attached to a train was afraid of a few drops of rain. It went into a tunnel and squeaked through its funnel and wouldn't come out again!" Gordon had a good laugh, but Henry merely snorted.

"Pah! I suppose _you_ then burst safety valves on a regular basis!" Henry smirked, thinking he had won, but Gordon was undeterred.

"Merely growing pains, Henry. Surely, someone like you would understand. Anyway, I'd rather burst my safety valve than be afraid of rain. Good night, dear Henry!" With that, Gordon, along with the others, finally fell asleep - all except for Henry, who was left brooding.

* * *

By the next morning, the storm had passed, and Gordon was ready to head out with the express. He glanced at Henry, who was still asleep in his berth.

"Good morning, Henry! Still asleep, are you? The sun's out, there's nothing to be afraid of now!" Henry opened a sleepy eye.

"Oh, is that so, eh? What a shame - I was hoping you'd be able to take my goods later." Gordon spluttered, but before he could retort, Henry closed his eye and went back to sleep.

"Disgraceful!" Gordon fumed to himself as he made his way to the station.

* * *

When he got there, Percy was shunting his coaches into position. Gordon was still grumpy as he backed down onto his train.

"I swear, Percy, the world's gone mad!"

"You mean it hasn't already?" said Percy innocently.

"Don't be funny! Engines nowadays, especially that Henry, are afraid of things that shouldn't bother us!"

"That's not fair, Gordon," huffed Percy, "There are lots of things that can be scary, especially at night." Gordon scoffed dismissively.

"Maybe to you less important engines, but there's nothing I'm afraid of! Where would I be if I was scared of a clap of thunder?" Before Percy could reply, Gordon blew his whistle and rumbled out of the station.

"Hmph! Thunder can be scary…" Percy pouted.

* * *

Despite his temper, Gordon's express ran well, and they were even early to Crovan's Gate.

"Well done, Gordon," encouraged his driver, "Keep this up and we may be able to give you an extra polish!" But Gordon didn't reply - he was wondering what he would say to Henry when they next met. Just as he was doing this, the guard's whistle blew and Gordon was interrupted from his thoughts.

"Come on, Gordon, we're not going to lose those extra minutes now!" called his driver. With a grunt, Gordon exited the station, towards the forest.

* * *

The thunderstorm had expectantly caused some damage to the forest, so Henry was assisting Harvey and the workmen in clearing up any wreckage.

"So, does Gordon really think you're still afraid of the rain?" Harvey asked, confused.

"No, or at least I hope not - he's just trying to get under my paint. The worst part is it's working!" Gordon's whistle blew in the distance and the big engine roared past without a word.

"He could hit a tree if he's not careful," commented Harvey worriedly.

"If there's one thing Gordon's afraid of, Harvey, it's common sense!" Henry replied crossly.

* * *

Gordon hadn't gone very far when he noticed an obstruction on the line ahead.

"Driver, brakes!" he cried. Sparks flew from Gordon's driving wheels as he just managed to come to a standstill. The driver poked his head out of Gordon's cab window and gasped.

"It's a fallen tree!" Gordon rolled his eyes.

"I can see that... When's Harvey going to come clear this?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea, Gordon - I expect he's still down the line. I suppose we're losing those minutes after all," the driver chuckled. Gordon snorted and fell silent. He spotted a blue butterfly flying from flower to flower. The butterfly seemed to have spotted him too and started coming closer. Gordon took little notice at first until the butterfly landed right on his nose!

"Looks like you've made a new friend, Gordon," the driver remarked. Gordon was too focused on the butterfly on his face to hear him - he had seen many before, but never this up close. Curiously, the butterfly started crawling up his nose until it was just beneath his eyes. Its large eyes stared at Gordon, who was horrified!

"Get it off, get it off!" he shouted, jolting backward into his express coaches. His crew was knocked off balance as Gordon reversed down the line. The butterfly, seemingly undeterred by the shrieking engine, started slowly following him.

* * *

The workmen were almost done clearing a section of forest, but Harvey was anxious.

"Do you think Gordon's alright?" he asked for the umpteenth time. Before Henry could answer, Gordon's express coaches came into view, then Gordon.

"Well, there's your answer," Henry huffed. Gordon backed alongside, panting. Henry gasped, immediately forgetting his grievances.

"Gordon? What's the matter? What happened?" Words tried coming from Gordon's mouth, but he was too frightened to properly reply. Then, Harvey looked ahead and noticed the butterfly in the distance.

"Oh, look at that! It has the same colour as you, Gordon, heh heh!" Gordon froze and his face turned pale. Henry and Harvey looked at each other.

"Er, Gordon… You do know butterflies are harmless-"

"Oh, it's lucky you got away in time, Gordon!" Henry interrupted, winking at Harvey, "Those things are horribly dangerous, and I would know!"

"D-Dangerous?" Gordon stuttered. The butterfly came closer, looking ready to land on Gordon again. Gordon began to scream and in a cloud of steam, raced away, even faster than before. As soon as Gordon was gone, Henry burst into laughter, leaving Harvey respectfully silent. The butterfly, taking an interest in Henry, landed on his lamp.

* * *

Gordon didn't stop until he reached back to Crovan's Gate, where he felt he had achieved a safe distance. Some of his disgruntled passengers went onto the platform to complain, but Gordon didn't hear them - he had other things to worry about. Sir Handel stood on the narrow gauge line, rather puzzled.

"Why are you back so soon?" he inquired, gasped for breath before looking around to make sure the butterfly hadn't followed him out of the forest.

"A butterfly almost got me," he explained, panting, "Luckily, I got away from the dratted thing in time." Sir Handel blinked.

"...what?"

"I _said_ ," Gordon repeated in an annoyed manner, "a butterfly almost got me." Sir Handel stared for a moment before laughing.

"You, Gordon! _You_! Afraid of a butterfly! I swear you big engines are so fragile!"

"You don't understand!" cried Gordon defensively, "They're dangerous!"

"Dangerous?" Gordon and Sir Handel looked over to see Rusty pull in with his maintenance train.

"We see butterflies all the time on our little line," Rusty continued, "and they've never once done us any harm."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Of course! In fact, I saw one this morning and I'm still here in one piece!" Gordon gaped in stunned silence before gritting his teeth in fury.

"HENRY!"

* * *

Despite his best efforts, the story of Gordon and the butterfly soon spread, so when Gordon came back to the sheds that night, the engines had all heard about it.

"So, there's nothing you're afraid of, eh, Gordon?" smirked Percy.

"Except forest animals!" James chuckled. Gordon backed into his berth and sat quietly, pretending not to hear the others' joking. Henry even made up a rhyme.

"Once an engine who pulls the express, let a _butterfly_ cause him unrest! He let out a scream and lost all his steam, and spent the day in silly distress!"

"Never mind, Gordon," said Edward quietly in the berth next to him, "Butterflies can look peculiar up close." But this didn't make Gordon feel much better. Eventually, the teasing died down, and Gordon was the only one awake. After some thought, he glanced at a sleepy Henry.

"Um… Henry?" Henry yawned and opened his eyes.

"Yes, Gordon? What is it?"

"I'm… I'm sorry I teased you. It appears that even someone as big and proud as me can still be frightened…" Henry quietly chuckled.

"And I'm sorry for scaring you." Henry yawned again.

"Good night, Gordon. Don't let the butterflies bite." Gordon smiled to himself before realizing what he had said.

"Wh- Henry!" But Henry had already fallen back asleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : A very simple one this time around, using a pretty far-out concept. So how did I come up with it? Truthfully, I didn't. You see, while browsing my Twitter feed back in January of 2018 (so yes, this was on the backburner for six months), I came across some tweets by user sleepyhenry. They're a really cool person, I highly recommend you check them out. Anyway, she posted an episode idea in which an engine is terrified of a butterfly, then suggesting it be Gordon. The gears started turning in my head and, after asking for permission (anonymously through CuriousCat since... uh... I'm shy), formulated the idea into a whole story. Another previous tweet she made featured a screenshot from a magazine in which a butterfly is on Henry's lamp, so you can see how that ended up working its way into it too. It was a really fun project to work on, despite its short length, and giving Sir Handel and Harvey roles helped flesh the idea out quite a bit. As for the next story, hopefully that'll be soon. Perhaps _Nature vs. Nurture_ might even be able to claw its way out of development if I can get around to finishing it, but I won't make any promises there. In the meantime, thank you all so much for reading!


	4. Nature vs Nurture

**NATURE VS. NURTURE**

* * *

"Is that the last of the waste, Max?"

"I don't think so, Monty. We didn't leave you there!"

"Pah! Last one to the Yard has to sleep outside!"

"You're on!"

Max and Monty spun their tyres and roared out of the Waste Dump. Scruff glanced at Whiff, who groaned loudly from lack of sleep.

"...why couldn't they have waited until morning…" Whiff muttered.

* * *

During the previous day, Max and Monty had carelessly tipped their construction waste onto Thomas' Branch Line, causing several disruptions. As punishment, they were forced to spend the rest of the night taking the waste to the dump. Unfortunately, Jack and Alfie had to stay and help too. By the time the mess was cleared, it was the break of dawn, and the diggers were exhausted.

"How long have we been digging?" Jack yawned as he and Alfie trundled home. Alfie's eyelids drooped over his eyes.

"Huh? Oh, uh… can't remember…"

Jack was too tired to reply. At last, they arrived back at the Yard. Oliver was already there, having been called back after Thomas had been re-railed. Just as Jack and Alfie were about to back into the shed, honking horns blasted in the distance.

"I'm going to win!"

"No, I am!"

"But I don't want to sleep outside!"

"You should've thought of that!"

The loud bickering snapped Oliver out of his slumber.

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" he spluttered, gasping for breath. Then, he noticed who the culprits were. "Oh, bother…"

Max and Monty drove up to the shed, spraying dust into the others' faces. Max flashed a smirk.

"I won, Monty, just as I thought I would!"

"That's not fair! You cut in front of me!"

"If you don't mind my saying so, some of us are trying to sleep," Oliver cut in as politely as he could.

"Oh, like you have any right to complain!" retorted Monty, "All you did all night was lounge around here while the rest of us did _real_ work!"

"You have no one but yourselves to blame for that."

Max scowled and rolled up to Oliver, staring him down.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about-"

" _Max and Monty_!"

Max and Monty immediately stopped and gulped as Miss Jenny strode up.

"I've just received a call from the police. Do you know why?"

Max squirmed, but Miss Jenny spoke first.

"Because you two not only damaged Oliver but dumped waste on the track! I honestly don't know what to do with you! I can only hope you won't be this reckless during our next assignment."

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Next assignment, ma'am?"

"We've been trusted with building a new seaside hotel at Knapford," Miss Jenny explained, "We're starting work on it tomorrow - I'm giving you all the day off today so you can rest up for it." She then turned to Oliver. "I have another project that I have to keep an eye on, so I'm trusting you to keep things in order for me."

"Don't worry, Miss Jenny. Under my watchful eye, I'll make sure nothing goes wrong," Oliver smiled. Miss Jenny sighed.

"I certainly hope so, Oliver…"

Miss Jenny started walking back to her land rover, but then remembered something and turned back around.

"Oh, I almost forgot! When you all set off to work tomorrow, there will be a surprise waiting for you at the site. Let's just say they'll provide some much-needed help."

Miss Jenny winked and walked away. Oliver was proud to be trusted, but grew a little worried.

"I'll make sure those two won't do anything rash," he mumbled to himself as he fell asleep. Max snorted, having overheard.

"Who's he to tell us what to do? He's only a stupid excavator."

"Yeah. We can drive circles around him," agreed Monty.

Max and Monty shared a devious grin and snickered.

* * *

For the rest of that day, The Pack caught up on some much-needed sleep. The following day, however, preparations for the project were underway. Thomas hurried along his branch line, pushing two wellwagons - one with a blue crane and the other a yellow steam lorry.

"Come on, Thomas!" the crane persisted, "We have to go faster!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Thomas panted.

"I seem to recall you telling me to slow down last week. A bit hypocritical, isn't it, Kelly?" smirked the lorry.

"Well, uh… Perhaps, but right now we have to make sure we're on time, Isobella. Besides, we wouldn't have to be in such a hurry if you hadn't dawdled and begged for that extra polish."

Isobella spluttered.

"I needed that polish and you know it! It wouldn't do for everyone to see me not at my best!" She harrumphed and looked away, offended. To Thomas' relief, Knapford Harbour came into view.

"We're almost there now!" he called, cutting Kelly off. Eager to get the two unloaded, Thomas shunted the wellwagons into the siding closest to the road. "Here we are!"

After carefully driving off her wellwagon, Isobella flashed a proud smirk at Thomas, who just rolled his eyes. Kelly, however, wasn't paying attention. His back wheels came close to lurching off the side of the wellwagon. Isobella saw this and gasped.

"Kelly, watch out!" she cried, blowing her whistle. Kelly snapped to a halt, just in time.

"Th-Thanks, Isobella. You too, Thomas," he stammered, noticeably shaken as he drove down onto the ground. Isobella raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on with you today?" she asked with genuine concern.

"Oh, uh... it's nothing. Just still waking up is all," Kelly said with a small smile.

"Makes sense for an old-timer like you," Isobella chuckled and she tore off towards the road. Kelly watched her leave before sighing with relief and chasing after her.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Yard, everyone was still asleep - except Max and Monty. They each crept quietly on each side of the shed and smirked. Max mouthed, "One, two, three…"

"BOO!"

Jack, Alfie and Oliver jolted awake, causing Max and Monty to laugh.

"That wasn't funny!" Jack exclaimed.

"It was to us, and that's all that matters," chortled Max.

"See you when you finally get to the site, old-timer!" Monty teased. He and Max spun their tyres and drove away, leaving Oliver to sigh.

* * *

Kelly and Isobella drove into the building site, expecting hustle and bustle. What they got instead was a barren lot with no activity whatsoever, aside from a few stray workmen.

"Where is everyone?" wondered Kelly.

"I told you we were early!" huffed Isobella, "To think that my polish was rushed for this-"

Kelly and Isobella were suddenly sprayed with mud. Isobella gaped as two dump trucks roared past, cackling.

"So, those two are the help, eh? A bunch of stick-in-the-muds, they are!" Max grinned. Monty snickered.

"I get it! Because they're covered in mud!"

"I know, I'm clever."

Max and Monty drove away, laughing. Isobella heard a gasp behind her. She turned around and froze in horror - Jack, Alfie, and Oliver stood at the entrance, all very surprised.

"Oh my…" gasped Oliver.

Isobella's cheeks turned into a deep shade of red, first with embarrassment, then rage. She turned back around to chase after Max and Monty and give them a piece of her mind. Quickly, Kelly lowered his crane arm in front of Isobella's face.

"Let me through!" Isobella demanded angrily.

"Not until you calm down," Kelly said tactfully.

"Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down when I did my best to make a grand entrance only to have my paintwork ruined?"

"Because you can always have it cleaned again."

Isobella tried to think of a rebuttal, but quickly gave up and sighed.

"I suppose you're right…"

"That's better," Kelly smiled, "Now, I expect Miss Jenny will be briefing us shortly. We better get in position."

"Yes, sir," grinned Isobella cheekily as she trundled away.

"Erm… Kelly? Miss Jenny's not coming, at least not for a while," put in Oliver meekly. Kelly raised an eyebrow.

"She isn't? Who's going to be in charge then?"

"Well, uh… She did say that I could keep an eye on things while she's away, so I suppose I am."

"It seems like you're not doing a good job at that," muttered Kelly to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing," Kelly said quickly, "Did Miss Jenny tell you what we're doing then, I expect?"

"No, she told _me_ ," interrupted a gruff voice.

Kelly and Oliver turned to see a man in a black uniform walking up to them, looking annoyed.

"Machines can't be in charge, what a silly idea. That's what us foremen are for. Now," he continued, "Jack and Alfie, you two are going to prepare what's going to be the car park for concrete. Kelly and Isobella, you are to collect incoming supplies from the nearby harbour and take them here. Max and Monty, you take construction waste to the dump." Max and Monty shared an annoyed glance. "And Oliver, Miss Jenny tells me you're a delicate digger, so you will dig the foundation for the hotel."

Oliver smiled proudly.

"Thank you, sir."

Without another word, the foreman left as soon as he came, leaving behind an awkward silence.

"Let's just say Oliver's in charge," suggested Alfie.

* * *

It wasn't long before Kelly was loading pallets of bricks from the quayside to Isobella's flatbed. Isobella was still cross.

"I can't believe I couldn't get a washdown! You can't just do work like this- Kelly? Kelly, are you listening to me?"

Kelly was snapped out of his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry, Isobella. I've just been thinking."

"That would be a first," giggled Isobella cheekily. Kelly rolled his eyes.

"Very funny."

At that moment, Thomas bustled into the harbour with some trucks. Isobella gasped and tried hiding behind Kelly, but it was too late - Thomas had seen them and braked to a standstill close by.

"What happened to you two? You were as clean as can be when you left."

"I'll tell you what, complete and utter humiliation!" Isobella cried, reaching hysterics.

"Max and Monty came by and sprayed us," explained Kelly simply. Thomas grunted.

"That doesn't surprise me. They've been running amok lately!"

Kelly frowned.

"Really? How so?"

"They've been running on the tracks in front of me… Avoiding level crossings… Why, they even had the nerve to dump all of their construction waste onto my branch line, delaying trains for hours and-"

"What?!"

Thomas and Isobella jumped as Kelly gritted his teeth.

"I should've known this would happen! Bother, why did I ever trust him?"

Kelly abruptly winched another pallet of bricks onto Isobella, who yelped from the drop.

"OW! Hey! Watch it!" she snapped.

Kelly ignored her and drove away in a cloud of dust. Thomas and Isobella shared a confused look.

* * *

By now, the workmen were on their tea break, and The Pack were enjoying what free time they could get. Alfie, however, was growing rather bored. He dully looked around the site and saw a muddy puddle. Alfie grinned excitedly and, without checking to see if anyone was watching, starting rolling towards it.

"Alfie!"

Alfie abruptly stopped and blushed as Oliver trudged alongside.

"U-Uh, hi, Oliver," Alfie smiled nervously, "I-I wasn't doing anything, and I w-wasn't going to _do_ anything either, heh-"

"There's no need to lie to me," Oliver said gently, "I know you were going to play in that puddle."

"Well… Alright, I was, but it's mud! You can't go wrong with mud!"

"I know, but safety first, as Miss Jenny says."

Alfie reversed away from the puddle convinced, making Oliver smile.

" _Oliver_!"

Oliver and Alfie yelped as Kelly raced into the construction site with a determined look in his eyes. Alfie gulped and scurried away to find Jack. Oliver was surprised.

"What's the matter, Kelly?"

"I'll tell you what's the matter - that you have been doing a terrible job of keeping everyone in line!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Kelly gestured to the site of the future car park with his crane arm. Jack was scooping up some dirt in his bucket.

"Hey, Alfie! Watch this!"

Alfie watched in anticipation. Jack tossed the dirt into the air, and it quickly fell down again, covering him in a brown coat of earth. The two burst into laughter. Feeling like he made his point, Kelly glared again at Oliver.

"Oh, Kelly, they're only having a bit of fun. There's no real harm in them."

"It shows you haven't been properly disciplining them. You know you're not supposed to play around during work."

"I'm fully aware, but I don't think it matters if we're on break, like we are now," Oliver countered, starting to grow frustrated. Kelly was growing frustrated too, and decided to leave before he said something he would regret.

"You shouldn't have been put in charge…" he muttered, thinking Oliver hadn't heard him, but he had. Oliver stood shocked and hurt for a moment before returning to work.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Oliver went out of his way to avoid Kelly as much as possible. This didn't go unnoticed by Alfie, as he and Jack worked on the car park.

"I don't understand it," Alfie mused, watching Oliver squirm as Kelly told Max and Monty off for racing.

"Don't understand what?" Jack asked disinterestedly, picking up a bunch of worms within the dirt of his bucket.

"Why Oliver's been acting so strangely. It's as if he can't stand being around Kelly now. That's never happened before."

"Maybe you should ask him if it concerns you so much," Jack suggested, staring at the worms wiggling around.

"No… We shouldn't bother him. Perhaps it'll sort itself out." Alfie heard an "Ooh!" and turned to see Jack looking intently at the worms. Jack looked up and blushed.

"What? They're funny little things."

* * *

At last, evening came, and work was starting to be wrapped up for the day.

"I think it's about time we head home," Oliver said, but no one paid attention. Kelly noticed this and sighed.

"Bother… Alright, everyone!" he called, raising his voice, "It's time to go home!"

This time, everyone looked up. Isobella, Jack and Alfie shared a grin before following Kelly out to the road. Oliver watched sadly.

"How does he get everyone to listen to him…?" he wondered aloud.

"Watch out, old-timer!"

Oliver jumped as Max and Monty roared past on each side, narrowly avoiding a collision.

"What was that for?" Oliver demanded.

Max chuckled as he and Monty reversed alongside him.

"That's for you thinking you can tell us what to do." He smirked. "And so is this!"

Oliver's annoyance turned to confusion.

"What are you-"

The dump trucks spun their tyres into the gravel and roared away, kicking up a cloud of dust. Oliver coughed furiously. From in front, Kelly rolled his eyes.

"Stop messing about, you two," he ordered firmly, "or I'll tell Miss Jenny."

Max and Monty braked and whistled innocently. Sighing with defeat, Oliver followed The Pack as they exited the construction site. Being rather slow, Oliver quickly fell behind. For a brief moment, he felt out of place as Kelly lead the way in front. It was then that they came across an intersection. Oliver stopped and looked down the country road.

"And that's when the lit dynamite fell right into my bucket!" Jack told Isobella, "It was most exciting, wasn't it, Oliver?" There came no reply. "Oliver?"

Jack and Isobella looked back and saw that Oliver had stopped.

"Come on, Oliver!" encouraged Jack.

"If you don't mind, I think I'm going to take the long way home," Oliver replied, starting to turn. Isobella took one look down the road and shuddered.

"Ugh, why would you _want_ to go down a dirt road? Paved roads are much better for your wheels."

Oliver ignored her and continued down the road. Jack gasped.

"Oliver, wait!"

Oliver stopped in brief hesitation.

"I just… need some night air, alright?"

The excavator started down the road again, leaving Jack and Isobella very confused. The two glanced at each other before hurrying to catch up with the rest of The Pack.

* * *

Oliver trundled along the winding road, venting to himself.

"What does Kelly mean that I shouldn't be in charge? Miss Jenny trusts me, after all. I mean, I suppose Max and Monty have been troublesome lately… but they always have been! It's not like Kelly can handle them that much better anyway…" He trailed off, starting to doubt himself. "Can he?"

Up ahead, the road sharply curved as it followed the railway. Oliver was so lost in thought that he didn't notice an engine puffing up behind him. The engine smirked and blew his whistle loudly, causing Oliver to cry out in surprise.

"Who's there?"

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it was only his good friend, Oliver the Great Western Engine, who had to slow down to nearly a crawl so as to not overtake the excavator.

"It's only me!" he chuckled.

"So I've gathered. I thought you would've been home by now."

"I would be, if there wasn't this night goods that I had to take. It's not exactly interesting," the engine grumbled.

"I for one think that all of our runs are interesting, Mr. Oliver," said Toad helpfully from the back of the train.

"Of course you do, Toad. Now, what exactly are _you_ doing out here?"

Oliver the excavator quickly tried making an excuse.

"I just… er… wanted to take the scenic route home… heh heh…"

The other Oliver chuckled.

"You're a poor liar, Oliver."

"Are you talking to yourself, Mr. Oliver?" queried Toad innocently, "Because you are a bad liar."

"Er… no, Toad," Oliver huffed, face flushing, "I was talking to the other Oliver."

"Oh. Sorry, sir."

The excavator sighed.

"Alright, you caught me. I suppose I'm just unsure of things at the moment."

"What sort of things, if you don't mind me asking?"

"For one thing, if I can handle The Pack well or not."

"Of course you can! You kept those reckless dump trucks from ruining the new branch line, and kept those diggers in order too! What brought this on?"

"Some of our team has come to help us with a new project, one of them a crane called Kelly. Miss Jenny told _me_ to keep things in order, but Kelly doesn't seem to trust me with that. _He's_ been taking charge instead, and saying I shouldn't have been at all."

"Huh. Seems rude to me."

"Indeed. The worst part is everyone always seems to listen to him, yet not me! Why? I just like to take a gentler approach, is that such a bad thing?"

"Certainly not! Oliver, you can't let this 'Kelly' fellow boss you and everyone else around like that. You need to stand up for yourself and show him who the real leader is."

The excavator thought for a moment before grinning with newfound determination.

"Thanks, Oliver. I'll do that."

"I'm glad to hear it."

The engine whistled and sped up again, quickly outpacing the excavator. Toad saw the smirk on his face as they passed and frowned.

"Pardon me, Mr. Oliver, but I'm not sure it was such a good idea to have suggested such a thing."

"Why not, Toad? You can't just disrespect a leader like that and get away with it. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

"That's what I'm wondering too," mumbled Toad.

* * *

By the time Oliver came back to the Yard, all of the other Pack members were already fast asleep, with Kelly and Isobella joining them in the shed. Oliver quietly backed into his position. He glared at Kelly before shutting his eyes.

* * *

Early next morning, it was Oliver who was the first one awake. He glanced at the others, still sleeping, and smirked.

"Wake up everyone!" he cried, blasting his horn. They awoke with a start, looking at Oliver.

"What's the big idea?" snarled Max, "Now you're telling us when to wake up?"

To his surprise, Oliver grinned confidently.

"And why shouldn't I? We have a busy day ahead of us, and we mustn't let it go to waste!"

"Isn't it just a normal day?" Jack asked.

"I... suppose so, but-"

"It's five in the morning," yawned Isobella, "Was this really necessary?"

"Of course! We have to be really useful for Miss Jenny!"

"I mean, he's not wrong," commented Alfie meekly. Max and Monty glared, making him gulp and subside into silence.

"Well," Kelly sighed, "We weren't meant to leave until six but…" He honked his horn. "Alright everyone, let's get going."

"Pah! Why should we?" snorted Monty.

"Yeah! We're not going just because Oliver woke us up!" agreed Max.

Kelly narrowed his eyes at them, which made the two shut up at once. Oliver was shocked as the rest of The Pack obediently followed Kelly out of the Yard without a single complaint. He scowled as he trundled after them, once again falling behind.

* * *

Max and Monty were cross too, but for a different reason.

"Oliver keeps shoving his bucket where it doesn't belong," grumbled Monty.

"We can't even teach him a lesson with that Kelly watching us like a hawk now," scoffed Max, "Unlike Oliver, he actually has a spine."

"Wait… no he doesn't. He's a crane."

"Shut up, Monty. Listen, I have an idea. Oliver wants us to be careful on roads, so let's not be."

"Why don't you ever let me plan our revenge schemes?"

"The same reason no one ever says 'Monty and Max'. I'm simply known more."

"That's not true! I heard that phrase once!"

"Whatever you say… Now, follow my lead."

Max started to swerve from side to side along the road, Monty quickly copying him. Max carelessly nearly hit Alfie. Terrified, the little excavator sped up until he was alongside Kelly.

"What's going on?" Kelly asked.

"Take a wild guess," said Isobella sarcastically before Alfie could answer.

"Woo hoo!" the dump trucks shouted as they scurried from lane to lane. They were so busy having fun that they didn't notice Trevor up ahead, chugging along with a cart.

"Hey, look! Another slow thing in our way!" Monty grinned darkly as he raced straight towards Trevor. Trevor's eyes widened.

"Get out of the way!" he exclaimed desperately. At the last second, Monty swerved, just in time. Trevor blinked in shock as Max rolled past, bursting with laughter.

"Young'uns these days…" he grumbled and he continued on his way. Then there was trouble. In his attempt to avoid Trevor, Monty had veered towards the back of Oliver! Neither realized it until it was too late. Monty rammed into the back of Oliver, making him shoot forward.

"Ouch!" cried Oliver.

Oliver shifted direction from the impact and started swerving off the road.

"HELP!" Oliver wailed as he slid down the bank below.

"Oliver!" Jack and Alfie gasped together as Oliver picked up speed, finally coming to a stop when he splashed into a ditch.

"...ow," Oliver deadpanned. His operator stood up, rubbing his head.

* * *

"I can't believe this, you two! How many times have I told you not to drive on the road like that?" Kelly snapped. Kelly's operator had attached a strong chain between Kelly's hook and Oliver, and now the crane was hauling his colleague back onto the road. Max and Monty looked nervously at each other.

"See, Oliver, _this_ is why we can't coddle," Kelly asserted, "Then, we get accidents like this."

"You said so yourself that you've told them many times to behave," Oliver smirked, "Perhaps, being stern doesn't always work."

"I'd rather be stern and at least let them know there are consequences for their actions than let them run amok like you've been doing lately!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you've been letting Max and Monty cause chaos on Thomas' line! He told me himself! That wouldn't have happened if I was there!"

"Oh, I doubt it! Miss Jenny chose _me_ to keep things in order for a reason, Kelly!"

"I never thought I'd see the day when your ego inflated, Oliver, but I suppose your 'leading' has gone to your head!"

The argument continued as Oliver and Kelly continued down the road. Jack, Alfie and Isobella watched in dismay.

* * *

Even as The Pack approached the building site, the argument showed no sign of slowing down.

"This is the worst I've seen either of them act…" said Alfie quietly.

"Power struggles can do that," muttered Isobella. Neither she, Alfie, or Jack noticed Max and Monty sidle alongside. Jack was the first to and glared bravely.

"What do you two want?"

Max glared back.

"Listen, small fry, you better not get in the way of our freedom."

Alfie gulped.

"F-Freedom?" he stuttered.

"Yes," smirked Max, "For once, we don't have the old-timers breathing down our necks-"

"We don't have necks either, Max."

"I told you to shut up, Monty."

"We still have to work!" protested Jack, "Besides, there's that foreman, isn't there?"

Max rolled his eyes.

"He probably won't even show up."

"Well, you can do what you want," said Jack smugly, "We'll continue to be really useful and make Miss Jenny-"

Monty revved his engine. Alfie, screaming, raced away.

"...proud," Jack finished weakly.

"Good one, Monty," chuckled Max.

"Alfie, wait!" Jack called, and attempted to follow him, until he saw the worms wiggling through the dirt again.

"Oooh, hello again!" Jack said warmly as he scooped the worms into his bucket. Max and Monty snickered to each other before racing off together, workmen diving out of their way.

"Imbeciles…" Isobella muttered.

"Hello, Isobella! You look busy…"

Isobella turned to see a smirking Bertie parked on the side of the road.

"I'm not in the mood, Bertie."

"You're never in the mood. Ah well, Miss Jenny's coming up here soon, maybe that'll give you a smile."

Isobella gasped.

"W-What? How do you know that?"

"I passed by Cronk earlier, and I said 'Hello.' She was getting into her land lover, so she's going to check on how you lot are progressing, I suppose."

Bertie heard Oliver and Kelly shouting at each other, and curiously glanced at the construction site.

"Doesn't look like she'll be too pleased," he chuckled, "Sorry I can't stay, but I have passengers to take. Cheerio!"

Bertie honked his horn and drove away, leaving a horrified Isobella.

"No, no, no! This can't be happening, this can't be happening! I-I can't let her see everyone like this!"

Panicking, she raced into the site, looking for someone to express her urgency to. She saw Alfie by the car park and hurried over.

"Alfie, please, listen to me! I-"

"N-Not now, Isobella! I have to be mischievous!"

Alfie shoveled some dirt and frantically threw it into the air. Isobella gasped and reversed just before it fell back to the ground.

"That's your definition of mischievous? It might've fallen on me!"

"S-Sorry," stammered Alfie sheepishly, "But Max and Monty might get cross, and no one's around to stop them!"

"B-But…"

Isobella groaned and drove over to Jack.

"Jack, Jack!"

But Jack was too enthralled by the worms to pay attention. Isobella only became more panicked.

"No, no! There has to be someone I can-"

"Out of the way, lady!"

Isobella gasped and swerved as Max and Monty flew past, splattering mud all over her again. Isobella gritted her teeth and grew red in the face - that was the last straw.

"ENOUGH!"

Her shout echoed around the site. Everyone stopped at once and gazed at Isobella in shock - none of them had ever seen her so angry before. Isobella took a deep breath and she rolled up to the taken aback excavator and crane.

"Oliver, Kelly, this stupid argument between you two has to stop _now_. Bickering about who can keep order doesn't mean anything when neither of you are doing so! Look around you! Everything's a mess, and if we don't get it cleaned up before Miss Jenny comes, we'll never be trusted on our own again!"

Oliver's face paled.

"M-Miss Jenny's coming?"

" _Yes_! Did you not hear what I just said? She's coming today!"

Kelly and Oliver glanced at each other, feeling ashamed.

"She's right," sighed Kelly, "I suppose there really isn't such a problem with how you do things, Oliver. Besides," he chuckled wryly, "I always tell Max and Monty to 'Slow down.' and they hardly ever do."

"In hindsight, I think I did get too carried away," Oliver admitted, "Miss Jenny trusting me wouldn't do much good if she found us like this, would it?"

Isobella smirked with triumph.

"Finally, you're listening to me! Now come on you lot, let's make Miss Jenny proud!"

Kelly and Oliver honked their horns in agreement and started off together. Kelly noticed Jack standing idle and was about to roll up to him when Oliver cut in.

"Let me handle this one, Kelly, if you don't mind."

Kelly stopped and watched as Oliver trundled up to Jack, whose bucket still contained the worms.

"Jack, I think it's time you put those in a safe place. A construction site isn't the place for worms, you know," Oliver said kindly.

"Alright, if you say so Oliver," Jack sighed. He reluctantly drove across the road and dumped his load, not seeing a bird in a nearby tree.

"That's better," smiled Oliver, pretending not to have noticed the bird, "Now, let's get back to work. You heard what Isobella said."

"Yes, Oliver," agreed Jack and he hurried to the site of the car park. Oliver grinned at Kelly who was quite surprised.

"Huh…" he muttered. Just then, some dirt fell close to Kelly.

"Sorry!" Alfie called. Kelly glanced at Oliver expectantly.

"You can take that one," Oliver chuckled, to which Kelly chuckled back and made his way alongside Alfie.

"Alfie, it's time to stop throwing dirt in the air and instead be productive," Kelly ordered.

"Oh, I-I'd love to, Kelly," stammered Alfie, "but w-what will M-Max and Monty say about it?"

Kelly smirked.

"Leave them to me."

Alfie raised an eyebrow before grinning as Kelly glared at Max and Monty, who were attempting to sneak away.

"Oh, no you don't. I'll tell Miss Jenny about you trying to shirk off duty… that is, of course, unless you behave."

Max and Monty looked at each other before silently rolling off to wait to be filled up with construction waste. Kelly turned back to Alfie.

"Now then, I think you have work of your own."

"Right away, Kelly!" Alfie exclaimed as he hurried away to join Jack.

"It's nice when we work together, isn't it?" Oliver mused. Kelly rolled his eyes.

"That's a trite statement if I've ever heard one." Oliver frowned. "...though you are right," Kelly added, laughing, "Come on, Isobella! I'm sure there's plenty of cargo waiting at the harbour."

Isobella grinned.

"I'll keep you both in line then!"

* * *

The Pack worked hard to make up for lost time. Whilst going about his work, Oliver saw that the dirt on the other side of the road was noticeably wormless. In the tree above, a fat bird sat contently on a branch. Oliver winced.

"...let's not tell Jack," he muttered to Kelly, who silently agreed.

* * *

By evening, the Pack had made up their quota for that day. Oliver and Kelly surveyed the handiwork.

"Miss Jenny's going to be pleased, I'm sure," said Kelly approvingly.

"Speaking of Miss Jenny… what's taking her so long?" Isobella wondered, "I better not have panicked for nothing-"

As if on cue, a familiar horn was heard, and everyone turned to see a land rover pulling into the site. Out stepped Miss Jenny, looking very impressed.

"This site's certainly orderly! What a fine job you all have done!"

Whilst she was talking, the foreman had walked up, late and grumpy, only to see her addressing her machines. Hearing the footsteps, Miss Jenny turned around in surprise. The foreman gulped.

"Uh…"

Before Miss Jenny could say anything, he hurried away.

"It looks like he's not our foreman anymore," Jack chuckled quietly to Alfie.

"Since that layabout apparently hasn't been here, I suspect you've been keeping things in order instead, Oliver!"

Oliver chuckled nervously.

"I suppose you could say that, ma'am."

"Thank you. You'd make a mother proud!"

Oliver glanced at Kelly.

"I appreciate it, ma'am, but only crediting me would be a disservice to those who helped, such as Kelly here."

"Ah, I see," Miss Jenny smiled, "That's no surprise then. In that case, well done to the both of you!"

Kelly smirked.

"Oh, but the credit's not all shared yet! Without Isobella, we wouldn't be where we are now."

Isobella's eyes lit up.

"Oh yes, of course! You can't forget about me!"

"Now, that is a surprise! I'm very proud of you, Isobella."

Isobella beamed.

"How about you lead us home, Isobella?" suggested Jack cheekily, "Show how much of a leader you've become?"

Isobella thought for a moment.

"No, Jack," she said at last, "Oliver and Kelly are the true leaders. I'm just the one who keeps everyone in check sometimes."

Jack gasped dramatically.

"Isobella? _Humble_?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Isobella laughed. Oliver and Kelly grinned before both honking their horns.

"That's enough for today. Let's go home, everyone," they called together. With Miss Jenny's land rover in front, they started towards the road side-by-side. Isobella followed, then Jack and Alfie. Max and Monty gritted their teeth but remained silent as they followed everyone else, this time last. Kelly glanced back at them and chuckled.

"I don't they'll give us any trouble tonight," he whispered to Oliver. Oliver smirked.

"Indeed. Not with us around."

Both laughed as the cavalcade made their way back home.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** At long last, this story is finally here! I've said before that after going through development for almost a year, I was tempted to give up on this, but now I'm glad I didn't. I don't often write Pack stories, something I hope to fix in the future, so this was fun to work on. I've grown to love writing Isobella in particular, so expect her to pop up semi-regularly in future. Writing Kelly was a bit of a challenge, as I wanted to distinguish Oliver and Kelly from each other since in the series proper, Kelly just tells the others to "Slow down!" most of the time. In previous drafts, he was more aggressive, but I feel toning that down in the end was the right move. Kelly will likely keep some of his stoic and strict personality in future stories, though obviously not as far as here.

I'm not entirely sure what the next story will be, though I do have a few ideas lined up. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Oliver Slips Up

**OLIVER SLIPS UP**

* * *

The recent addition of the slip coaches to the Little Western has attracted many tourists who are eager to see them in action. Duck is the only engine entrusted with pulling them after James had made a poor first run. Duck is quite proud of this.

* * *

One morning, Duck and Oliver were in their shed, waiting to start their day's work.

"There are already people on the platform!" Oliver noted grumpily, glancing at the station, "I swear it seems there are more people every year."

Duck yawned.

"Yes, well, it's lucky The Fat Controller brought in the slip coaches then. They're very efficient at taking passengers along the line, though it is hard work."

"Hard work? How? You always make it look so easy!"

"Perhaps," Duck chuckled, "but they require precision. You need to alert the guards to uncouple them at just the right time."

Oliver rolled his eyes.

"They're only coaches, Duck. They can't be _that_ complicated."

"If you don't," Duck continued, offended, "the coaches will stop in the wrong place, meaning the passengers can't get out. Then they say we're a bad railway."

"I could easily do that," Oliver snorted, "If that's all you have to do, then I say I can take those coaches for a run myself."

Duck raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? Let me-"

"Come along, Duck," interrupted his driver, hoping to stop the argument before it started, "Our first train's due out."

Duck whistled and proceeded to puff out of the shed, glaring back at Oliver. However, he hadn't even made it to the points when he felt a sharp pain.

"OUCH!" he exclaimed, coming to an abrupt stop. Quickly, Duck's crew clambered down to examine him.

"Your steam pipes have cracked, Duck, so steam can't travel to your cylinders," sighed the driver at last, "You won't be going anywhere today."

Duck groaned as a sympathetic Oliver puffed to the points before pushing him back into his berth.

"But what about my passengers?" Duck asked anxiously, "The train has to leave in a few minutes!"

"Hmm… We could use Daisy if she's not too busy," the fireman suggested. Duck and Oliver shared a look - neither particularly fancied that idea. Suddenly, Oliver got his own idea.

"How about I pull the train?" he smirked.

Duck spluttered.

"W-What? You?"

"Yes, why not me?"

"For a start, you-"

"I'm sorry, Duck, but it doesn't look like we have any other choice, I'm afraid," Oliver's driver interrupted, "Ryan can come and take care of your trucks, Oliver. I'll arrange it with stationmaster."

He ran to the station and in a few minutes, came back, looking relieved.

"Stationmaster says it's alright. Come on, chap. We better get going."

Oliver grinned.

"Right then! I'll show you what's 'complicated', Duck!"

He chuckled, making his way to the siding with the slip coaches. Duck watched helplessly as Oliver rolled away, already having a sinking feeling in his boiler.

* * *

Meanwhile, the slip coaches were waiting anxiously for their engine.

"I say, we're going to be late at this rate!" fretted the first coach.

"Oh, that rhymed!" cried the third coach, "Why don't we make up rhymes while we wait for Duck?"

The other two glared at him.

"No," they said together.

"Oh…"

The first coach frowned as a different bunker backed down onto them.

"You're not Duck," he said warily.

"No, I'm Oliver. I'm taking you out today."

"Why? Where's Duck?" demanded the second coach.

"Oh, he has a cracked steam pipe. I wasn't told how long it'll take to repair it."

The three slip coaches glanced worriedly at each other - none of them were keen on anyone but Duck pulling them. Suddenly, the first coach noticed a familiar logo on Oliver's side.

"You're a Great Western Engine!" he gasped.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I am. You didn't know?"

Ignoring the question, the first and second coaches quickly changed their tune.

"A Great Western Engine!" the second coach said excitedly, "Well, at least while Duck is away, we'll have a worthy substitute! Great Westerners always know how to use us!"

"Indeed I do," Oliver smirked, and in an attempt to prove himself right, gently rolled forward from the siding to the station. The first two coaches grinned at each other, though the third coach had a suspicious scowl.

* * *

Oliver came to a halt at the platform, whistling briskly.

"Get in quickly, please!" he called to the passengers. The passengers looked at each other and shrugged before climbing aboard their respective coach. Oliver chuckled to himself.

"This isn't hard at all... What was Duck talking about?"

As Oliver was musing, Douglas pulled in on the other line with some empty ballast trucks, rather surprised.

"Oliver? What are ye doing with th' slip coaches?" Douglas asked curiously.

"Duck's... not feeling well."

The two glanced at the sheds to see a pained-looking Duck.

"Och, I see. But… how come ye didnae just fetch some other coaches?"

"Why would you suggest that?" Oliver huffed defensively.

"Because ah didnae think ye even knew how tae use slip coaches."

"Well, I do," Oliver snapped. Douglas narrowed his eyes. Oliver squirmed before sighing. "Alright, I don't know everything, but… it seems simple enough. I can learn."

"Aye, ye could… or ye could hurry and collect normal coaches."

"There's no time for that now, Douglas," Oliver retorted, "The passengers are already onboard."

The guard in the third coach blew the whistle, and Oliver started puffing out of the station with a will. Douglas frowned.

"Ah sure hope ye know what ye're doing, laddie…"

* * *

Oliver made his way down the coast, giving both passengers and coaches a smooth ride.

"A gentleman, he is," smiled the second coach, "It's a shame he hasn't pulled us sooner!"

"Indeed! I'd say he pulls us just as well as Duck!" agreed the first coach.

Oliver smirked as he overheard the praise.

"They're right!" he chuckled to himself, "I should've pulled them sooner! This is easy! That's one in the headlamp for Duck!"

He rounded the bend and Bluff's Cove came into view. The third coach waited expectantly for Oliver's whistle, but it never came - Oliver had become so conceited that he forgot to pay attention. The guard, not being able to know where the train was, couldn't know when to uncouple the coach, and so he didn't. Oliver was racing past the station when he felt the train getting heavier.

"What's the meaning of this?" he grumbled, braking a few yards from the platform, "You're not supposed to stop with slip coaches!"

"Don't talk like you're such an expert!" scowled the third coach, "You didn't signal to uncouple me! Now, someone's pulled an emergency cable!"

A seething passenger poked his head out a window.

"Oi, that was my stop back there!" he shouted, "Who do you think you are? I have to get off!"

Oliver's face turned red.

"O-Oh. I'm dreadfully sorry, sir. My mistake. It won't happen again, I promise."

The man grunted and sat back down. Oliver carefully reversed back to the station, smiling sheepishly as several cross passengers walked out.

"I knew something was bound to go wrong. You can't trust these engines," the third coach complained bitterly.

"Now, there's no need to speak that way," the first coach said firmly, "This engine merely made a mistake, that's all. Oliver's different."

"Is he…?" muttered the third coach darkly. The other two coaches looked at each other anxiously as the guard blew the whistle.

"Come on, you two. We best make up for lost time," Oliver said, notably less confident than before. He hurried away, eager to leave behind the cross passengers and grumbling coach.

* * *

Oliver didn't admit it aloud, but he felt rather silly about his mistake.

"I mustn't forget to whistle. I mustn't forget to whistle," he repeated to himself as he puffed along. At last, he approached the station of Haultraugh. As soon as he saw it, he blasted his whistle, alerting the guard in the second coach to uncouple it.

"Well done, Oliver!" the second coach grinned as she rolled along, "I knew you'd…" She trailed off, realizing that she was already slowing down.

"Oh no… Oliver? Er, Oliver?"

But Oliver hadn't heard - he was too pleased with himself.

"Well done, indeed! I did learn after all - it just takes a bit of practice!"

Oliver sped up with the last coach, leaving the second coach behind. To her horror, she came to a standstill long before the platform, leaving the passengers stranded.

"Oliver, Oliver!" she shouted, "Come back!"

But it was no good - Oliver had gone. The coach winced as passengers quickly started to complain.

* * *

Down at Tidmouth, Ryan was cheerfully shunting some trucks to take back up the branch line.

"What a lovely day it is!" he remarked before noticing Oliver in the distance. "Hello, Oliver!" he said happily whilst whistling. Oliver whistled in reply, not realizing that such a greeting was a mistake. Inside the coach that remained, the guard heard the whistle too.

"Time to uncouple," he muttered to himself before pulling the lever. The coach's eyes widened as he was uncoupled from Oliver. Oliver pulled into the platform and grinned.

"You look happy, Oliver," Ryan noted, "What's the occasion?"

"I think I'm finally getting used to those slip coaches, Ryan. I made some… undesirable mistakes at first, but it happens to the best of us, you see."

As Ryan was listening, he saw the coach careening down the track towards Oliver's bunker.

"Er… Oliver?" he put in nervously.

"I can't wait to tell Duck that it's really not as hard as he thinks! Maybe that'll get him to stop talking about them so much-"

"Behind you, Oliver!" Ryan shouted. Before Oliver could look behind him, however, the coach banged into the back of him, jolting him forward. Ryan had shut his eyes and now opened one cautiously.

"Oliver, are you alright?"

Oliver was rather shaken, though not as much as the coach and his passengers.

"Yes, Ryan, I'm alright. That just took me by surprise is all." He glared back at the coach. "What do you think you're playing at? My normal coaches never bump me."

The coach's eye twitched - he had had enough.

"We're _not_ normal coaches!" he burst out, "But you wouldn't know that, would you? You know nothing about how to pull us, yet you act like you do! We should've listened to our comrade - you are just like all the other stuck-up engines! I refuse to move another inch with you!"

Oliver and Ryan stared at the coach in shock. The station was silent for a brief moment before passengers hurried out of the coach and stormed the stationmaster's office.

"Well, that… seems unfair," said Ryan meekly, but Oliver interrupted.

"No, Ryan, he's right," he sighed, startling both Ryan and the coach, "I never used slip coaches myself before - back on the Great Western, I only used auto-coaches." He groaned. "And now I've made a fool of myself. I'm sorry, er… coach. You three belong with Duck."

The coach was impressed, but still a little cross and so said nothing.

"Worst of all," Oliver continued, "Duck won't be repaired for at least the rest of today! How am I supposed to take my passengers now?"

Ryan coughed to get Oliver's attention.

"Oliver, um, there's some red coaches in the yard, if you'd like to use them. Perhaps I could help too?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Ryan, the last time you took passengers, you took them to the quarry… though, I suppose I'm not one to talk at the moment."

"No, no," laughed Ryan, "I don't mean that! I could gather the coaches together so they don't block the line, and you collect the coaches!"

"That is a good plan," Oliver considered, "If it's alright with you, that is," he added, glancing at the coach. The coach gave a smile in reply.

* * *

And so it was arranged. Ryan hurried up the branch line with the third coach in tow. He found the second coach, still stranded.

"Oh dear… Don't worry, I'll get you to the platform!"

Ryan was quickly coupled and he pulled her to the platform.

"Thank you," the second coach said gratefully, though the passengers weren't quite so appreciative as they swarmed the platform like angry bees. Ryan puffed nervously away before they could complain to him. Lastly, the third coach sat brooding at Bluff's Cove.

"You should've listened to me," he huffed as Ryan came in with the other coaches, "That Oliver is too stubborn."

"Actually," Ryan interjected cautiously, "Oliver feels sorry about how he treated you. I'd say he even wants to apologize."

The coaches looked at each other in surprise.

* * *

Meanwhile, Oliver had shunted some red coaches and was making his way back to Arlesburgh.

This time, he didn't make a single mistake. He was reaching Bluff's Cove when he saw Ryan and the slip coaches in the siding by the station.

"Oh, er… hello?"

"Hello, Oliver! Don't you have something to say to these coaches?" Ryan asked. Oliver raised an eyebrow, to which Ryan gave an encouraging smile.

"I didn't know this was happening…" he muttered before clearing his throat. "Er, yes, well, I thought it'd be easy to pull slip coaches, but I was proven wrong. There's more to it than I thought. From now on, I'll stick to normal coaches - they're what I know."

The coaches each gasped excitedly and cheered. Even the third coach wasn't so cross anymore.

"I don't know if I should feel insulted by this…" Oliver mumbled.

* * *

Oliver pulled the normal coaches for the rest of that day, whilst Ryan shunted the slip coaches onto a siding. It was difficult work pulling Duck's passengers as well as his own, and by the time night came, Oliver was exhausted.

"I hope Duck gets back soon…" he murmured.

"You'll be pleasantly surprised then!"

To Oliver's surprise, Duck rolled out of the shed with a broad grin.

"Duck? I thought you went off to the Steamworks!"

"Oh no, it was only a minor repair, really. I'll be back to work first thing tomorrow!"

"That's a relief," sighed Oliver. Duck glanced behind him and saw the red coaches.

"Where are the slip coaches…?"

Oliver blushed.

"Oh. er… It's a bit of a long story," and he sheepishly recounted his earlier trip. Duck could only laugh.

"So, it _was_ too difficult for you! And to think you said it was easy!"

Oliver rolled his eyes. He shunted his coaches away and backed alongside Duck. The shed was silent before Duck spoke up.

"You know, Oliver, if you'd like, I could teach you how to figure out when to whistle."

"No thank you, Duck," Oliver said quickly, "I've had enough of slip coaches for a while. You're welcome to them."

"Suit yourself," Duck smirked as Oliver closed his eyes. From their siding, the slip coaches observed the scene, each chuckling before drifting off to sleep themselves.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : An Oliver story right after a story about the other Oliver? Sure, why not? The Little Western's fun to center stories around and Oliver pulling the slip coaches was a concept that I thought felt right. Yeah, the basic idea of someone messing up with the slip coaches is similar to _Duck and the Slip Coaches_ , but I think the plot's different enough to stand on its own. Oliver's been one of those characters I'm never too sure if I'm writing well, yet I think I did alright with him here. Next time we'll see the continuation of a previous story. Which one? Well, I'll leave that for you to figure out! Anyway, tell me what you thought of this, and previous stories!


	6. No Laughing Matter

**NO LAUGHING MATTER**

* * *

"CHARLIE!"

Charlie woke with a start, looking around frantically before spotting a very cross Fat Controller standing in front of him.

"Oh, uh, good morning, sir!" Charlie smiled nervously.

"Don't act like nothing's wrong, Charlie. I've heard all about your little 'pranks' yesterday."

"O-Oh, you have?"

"It's appalling," The Fat Controller continued severely, "that you not only made Thomas late but nearly caused an accident! I understand you have your comedic ways, but that is no excuse for recklessness, do you understand?"

Charlie gulped.

"Y-Yes, sir, and I am truly sorry, sir. It was a bit of a bump in my career, you might say."

" _I'd_ say you need someone to keep an eye on you." The Fat Controller paused for a moment. "Until I can trust you again, I'm going to be sending you to Wellsworth. Edward can watch you there."

Charlie gasped.

"Wellsworth? But sir-"

"Charlie, _go_."

Charlie sighed and sadly rolled out of the shed. From nearby, Philip and Stafford watched him leave, Stafford glaring and Philip looking uneasy.

* * *

As Charlie puffed along the Main Line towards his new workplace, all he could do was mull over his situation.

"I didn't need to move... I've learned my lesson already! What if I never go back? Oh dear, it just keeps getting worse and worse…"

"Well, hello, Charlie. What are you so put out by?"

Charlie glanced up and saw that he was so focused he had pulled into Wellsworth without realizing it. Edward was shunting some trucks in the yard and looking at him curiously. Charlie sighed sadly.

"It's The Fat Controller. He apparently heard about yesterday, and sent me here as punishment! It's not fair!"

"Did you not expect The Fat Controller to find out?" Edward asked dubiously.

"Well, um… I just thought he'd… let it go? I mean, did he just want to send someone here just because no one else wanted to go? Actually… that's a good idea for a joke… Can someone write that down?"

Edward rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Working here's not so bad, Charlie, though I do need some help."

"I suppose _someone_ has to do it. Anyway, I'd rather work here with you than back at Knapford where no one's happy to see me."

Edward smiled.

"That's the spirit. Now, you stay here in the yard - I have to head down to Brendam. I'll be back soon!" He whistled and puffed away. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Huh… I thought he was supposed to 'keep an eye on me.' Oh well, at least ol' Eddie knows I won't cause too much trouble. Only a little."

Charlie laughed at his own wit and set to work.

* * *

Charlie worked hard as he arranged the trucks in the yard. Despite Edward being away, Charlie wasn't always alone. Not long after he had left, Charlie heard a whistle and gasped as Thomas pulled in.

"Hello, Thomas!" Charlie called hopefully. Thomas was surprised to see him, but quickly scowled and refused to look at him. To Charlie's dismay, Thomas didn't say a word as he shunted his trucks and hurried away.

"Oh…" Charlie sighed, "He hasn't let go either…"

And it wasn't just Thomas - all morning, every engine that passed through or stopped at the station either looked away or gave him a hard glare, no matter what Charlie did.

"Please, just listen! I'm sorry!" Charlie shouted, but Douglas merely rolled his eyes and puffed away.

"Oh, look, Ben! It's Mister Popular!" came a cheeky voice. Charlie glanced over and frowned angrily as Bill and Ben pulled in with a train of china clay, each with broad smirks.

"Buzz off! You're not funny, and I would know!" Charlie hissed crossly.

"I doubt The Fat Controller would agree," snickered Ben, "He found you so unfunny he sent you here!" Charlie gritted his teeth.

"I doubt he found you very funny either."

"Actually," Bill said proudly, "The Fat Controller didn't punish _us_ at all." Charlie gasped.

"What?! That's _really_ not fair! You two pulled a prank on me too! Why weren't you punished?"

"Because The Fat Controller thinks we're funny," smirked Ben, "That says something, doesn't it, Bill?"

Whilst Ben was talking, Edward had returned from the docks with his train and had heard everything.

"It says that you two are bending the truth," Edward cut in. Ben stopped talking at once and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, hello Edward! We-"

"I don't need to hear any more. As I recall, The Fat Controller wasn't particularly pleased with you two either. Now, head on back to the clay pits or else I'll fetch him now."

"Y-Yes, Edward," the twins stammered together and they quickly hurried out of the yard. Edward could see that Charlie was upset.

"Those two haven't been treating you well, have they?"

"It's not just them, it's everyone, Edward!" Charlie complained, "Even when I'm not at Knapford, no one talks to me! …except you, of course."

"Just remember what I told you. They just need some time - it's only been one day after all."

"But how much time, Edward? Going about my work like this is draining! Almost as draining as listening to Dowager Hatt drone on about hats!"

Edward chuckled.

"I don't know, but I do know I have to collect my next train." Charlie started reversing to fetch it but Edward cut him off. "Don't worry, I'll arrange it myself. You go and have a drink.

"Thanks, Edward," Charlie said gratefully. He rolled out of the yard and to the water tower at the station.

* * *

Soon, Charlie was having a drink as the water filled his tank, but he found it difficult to relax.

"If even Edward doesn't know when the others will accept me again, then it must be a very long time…" he mused, "I can't wait that long! I have to do something about it _now_! But what?"

Charlie didn't notice, but James had pulled up behind him, very cross.

"Out of my way, you silly engine!" he fumed, "My passengers can't wait just because you take too long getting a drink!"

Charlie was so surprised that another engine was talking to him that he didn't know what to do. However, he didn't get to decide. James rolled and bumped him forward, causing some of the leftover water to spill all over James' side. James grimaced.

"Hey! I wasn't finished!" Charlie protested, now annoyed.

"As if I care, now go away and leave us alone!" James scowled. Charlie scoffed and puffed back to the yard, allowing James to pull into the station. "You'd think that engine was thinking about one of his stupid comedy routines or something..." James muttered.

James didn't realize it, but Charlie had overheard him, and suddenly wasn't annoyed anymore.

"Comedy routine! That's it!" he gasped.

"...what's it?" asked a nearby workman, having no idea what he was talking about.

"Laughter! Why didn't I think of it before? Laughter is the best medicine for anything! Well, except a broken leg, but it can help!"

Charlie grinned and started toward the trucks, considerably more cheerful. The workman stared after him before shaking his head and returning to work.

* * *

Charlie bustled about the yard, arranging the trucks so they would be the optimal audience. Some didn't care a bit, whilst others weren't… quite as willing.

"What are you doing?" protested a van, "We're supposed to be over-"

Charlie gave him a bump and the van slid alongside its companions.

"Ow! No need for that!" the van grumbled. At last, the sidings were filled with an assortment of confused trucks. Charlie surveyed the yard and smirked.

"Perfect." He cleared his throat. "Hello, everyone, how are you all doing today?"

The trucks glanced at each other, one loudly coughing. Charlie decided to ignore the awkwardness.

"I tell you, you trucks are a great audience. You stay right where you're put - engines are always running away from me!"

A few trucks laughed, making Charlie grin confidently. Just then, Gordon's whistle blew in the distance.

"It's a shame you're here, at Wellsworth," Charlie continued, hoping that when Gordon passed by, he would hear him and start laughing, "It's a prison! No-one wanted to be a shunter here, so I was forced into it! Poor Edward, he thinks it's fine and dandy here, but spending all your life in a prison will do that to you."

Gordon rushed into the station with the express - as Charlie had hoped, he did hear his bit, but he didn't even crack a smile before fading out of sight. Charlie's smile faltered.

"Huh, well, see, heh heh? Even he doesn't want to stay here! Who would, am I right?" Charlie continued his routine, hoping that whichever engine passed by next would laugh. To his discontent, no engines appeared, and soon, he was starting to run out of things to joke about.

"Well, uh... uh..."

Charlie heard another whistle, and his face lit up as Henry rumbled into the yard with some flatbeds of logs.

"Oh, look who it is! It's the environmentalist himself! Let's get a little audience interaction, eh?" Charlie smirked, "Henry, how does it feel to contribute to the death and eventual reuse of trees?"

He paused, hoping that Henry would respond with something witty or at least laugh, but to his surprise, Henry merely snorted.

"Charlie, your 'humour' has the wit and charm of rotting fish."

The trucks started laughing, even harder than they had at any of Charlie's jokes. Charlie was stunned!

"I, uh... Ouch. Tough crowd."

Henry rolled his eyes.

* * *

Seeing as his routine had bombed, Charlie had to rearrange the trucks back to the way they were before, and was rather bitter as he bumped them about. He was just finishing when Philip rolled into the station with a small train. There was an awkward silence as both of them looked at each other.

"Hello, Charlie," Philip said slowly at last, "Where's Edward? I wanted to say hello!"

"He's taking trains, presumably," Charlie replied, "or he's at the Animal Park chatting with a zebra."

Philip laughed, making Charlie smile.

"Talking to a zebra! How silly!" He then caught himself and gasped. "Oh dear… Stafford said I wasn't supposed to talk to you…"

"Oh, what does he know? Though… no one else but Edward is talking to me anyway…" Charlie muttered glumly, "Possibly never again at this rate…"

Philip couldn't help but feel sorry for Charlie.

"I know! You just need to be a hero!"

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"A hero?"

"Yes! When I first came to Sodor, I rescued James from falling off a bridge!" Charlie rolled his eyes, having heard this many times before. "When I got to the sheds," Philip continued, growing more and more excited, "everyone loved me! Except maybe Gordon, but that's not the point. The point is, if you become a hero too, everyone will love you!"

"Huh, you're right!" He snickered as he came up with an idea. "And I know just how to do it too…"

"Ooh, tell me! Tell me!" Philip grinned eagerly. Charlie smirked.

"Alright, here's the plan," he whispered, "You pull those trucks you have there up Gordon's Hill and then push them back down, but make sure you make it seem like an accident. Meanwhile, I'll be sitting in the station, and you will give me a signal that the trucks are coming. Then, I will bravely stop the runaway trucks."

"Got it! You can count on me, Charlie!"

"Charlie, I've got some trucks for you!" called Edward's voice.

"Coming, Edward!" Charlie shouted. He went to attend to Edward's trucks, winking at an excited Philip.

* * *

Philip watched impatiently as Charlie finished shunting away Edward's train. At last, Charlie glanced at Philip and indicated towards the hill. Philip grinned and was about to start to the hill with his trucks when he stopped.

"These trucks aren't heavy enough," he thought to himself, "If I can find _heavier_ trucks, everyone will love Charlie even more!"

He left his train at the platform and quietly rolled into the yard, trying his best not to attract the attention of Charlie and Edward.

"Hmm… Here we are!" Philip smirked as he spotted the flatbeds of logs that Henry had left earlier. He rolled onto the siding and saw a shunter leaning against a flatbed on his tea break.

"Psst, couple me up!" The shunter shrugged and did so. Philip gave a heave, but the flatbeds were heavy, and his cheeks turned red from the exertion. Nonetheless, Philip made his way towards the hill, feeling very pleased with himself - so pleased, in fact, that he hadn't noticed he had forgotten the brake van.

"I'm so strong, Charlie will surely be impressed with me!" Philip giggled. Charlie, meanwhile, was doing his best to keep Edward occupied so as not to see Philip.

"So… anything… interesting going on?" Charlie asked awkwardly.

"Are you just fishing for material, Charlie?" Edward chuckled.

"What? No, no, of course not! I genuinely want to know if anything's happened - you're the only one that can tell me! ...though a few ideas for jokes are a good bonus."

It was hard work for Philip as he tugged the flatbeds of logs up the slope. His wheels slipped on the rails and he almost slid back down a couple times, but he managed to make it to the top. Philip was out-of-breath, but still honked his horn to signal Charlie.

"Was that Philip?" Edward wondered.

"Hmm, uh… I think so!" Charlie affirmed, trying his best to improvise, "He said he wanted to say hi to you, but he missed you."

"Oh-"

"Dear oh dear, I'm parched!" Charlie interrupted, "I need a drink!"

"You had a drink not so long ago, didn't you…?"

"Y-Yes, but I need another one!"

Before Edward could press him further, Charlie raced to the water tower. Edward narrowed his eyes.

* * *

Back on the top of the hill, Philip was waiting for Charlie to get into position. He was still tired, and his brakes were starting to weaken. The flatbeds of logs started to roll, dragging Philip with them!

"Oh no! Driver, uncouple me, hurry!" he pleaded, but his driver wasn't quick enough. The flatbeds jolted forwards, and before Philip realized it, he and his trucks were sliding down Gordon's Hill.

"Help, help!" Philip shouted as they started picking up speed.

* * *

Down at Wellsworth, Charlie was taking on water, or at least acting like he was. Edward watched him suspiciously, but was interrupted as they heard Philip's cries for help.

"It sounds like Philip's in trouble!" cried Edward in alarm. Charlie merely thought that Philip was trying to be dramatic.

"Have no fear, Eddie! I'll handle this!"

"What? Charlie, what are you-"

"Stand back!" Charlie ordered and sat with his brakes off, expecting himself to easily stop the trucks coming his way. To both his and Edward's surprise, however, both several flatbeds of logs and a screaming Philip could be seen careening down the hill and towards the station, much faster than Charlie had anticipated. Charlie's eyes widened.

"Uh oh."

The flatbeds of logs flew into the station and bashed into the back of Charlie. Their speed started pushing Charlie along in front, with Philip still screaming at the back. Edward watched in horror as the two flew out of sight.

* * *

Charlie and Philip soared down the Main Line, the heavy flatbeds between them forcing them onward.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to go!" Charlie exclaimed. He slammed on his brakes. This jolted the flatbeds and Philip, but did little to slow them down.

"I-I don't like going this fast!" Philip cried in terror.

"It's alright, Philip, it's alright, we're gonna get out of this!" Charlie called back, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than Philip.

"No we won't, we're going to crash!" Philip wailed. Charlie winced, almost believing him. The two engines cried out in horror as they quickly rounded a bend, almost tilting off the rails. Countryside flashed by, but neither of them took much notice. What Charlie _did_ notice was that they were starting to gradually slow down.

"Right, this is good, this is good!" he reassured himself, "We just need a few more miles or so, and we can stop! Everything's going to be fine!" But it wasn't. Shortly after he said this, he heard a familiar whistle.

"James!" Charlie gasped.

"James?!" Philip echoed frantically. The runaway swerved on another bend, and there was James, puffing grumpily down the line with a train of full coaches!

"Ugh, Wellsworth… That purple twit's going to be there, I know it. Why couldn't The Fat Controller have just sent him out of the way, and-"

"JAMES!"

"Huh?" James looked up and gaped - in the distance were Charlie and Philip, coming towards him fast.

"Oh nooo!" James' brakes came on with a groan. He managed to stop and tried to reverse, but his coaches were heavy, so his wheels merely spun helplessly. The distance between the two trains became smaller and smaller.

"I can't watch!" Philip whimpered, eyes still shut.

"You already weren't watching!" retorted Charlie. Sparks flew from his wheels as he put every ounce of steam against the flatbeds. Charlie and James slammed their eyes shut, preparing for the worst. However, the worst didn't come - Charlie's efforts paid off as he just barely stopped inches from James' buffers. The three engines slowly opened their eyes and sighed with relief.

"Heh heh… hey, James. Didn't expect to see you again so soon," Charlie smiled meekly. The red engine growled.

"Charlie! Just _what_ are you doing on the Main Line?! You almost caused an accident!"

"Oh, uh… about that, I-"

"It wasn't Charlie's fault!" put in Philip loudly, catching James off guard.

"How…?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I lost control of my trucks on the hill," Philip said hastily, "but luckily, Charlie was here to stop them in time and save everyone! He's a hero!" James glanced from Charlie to Philip and back again, bewildered.

" _You_?"

Charlie turned red and he smiled sheepishly. James was speechless!

* * *

Despite it being hard work, Charlie and Philip managed to take the flatbeds back to Wellsworth. James followed not far behind, oddly silent. When the three arrived, Edward was waiting anxiously.

"Oh, thank goodness! Is everyone alright?"

"Yes, thanks to Charlie!" Philip grinned. Edward looked to Charlie.

"I see…"

Charlie gulped and rather hoped Edward didn't as the blue engine reversed away. Charlie and Philip changed lines so James could pull into the platform.

"Erm… thank you, Charlie, for saving me," James uttered quietly. Even if it was what he expected to happen, Charlie was still shocked that James had said such a thing.

"Really?"

"Just don't let it get to your smokebox," James huffed. His shaken-up guard blew the whistle and James rolled out of the station. "And no more pranks!" he called back. Charlie smiled.

"Agreed!" Philip was uncoupled from the flatbeds of logs and rolled alongside Charlie, beaming.

"See, I told you!"

"Yes, you did." Charlie glared at Philip, to the boxcab's surprise. "But you didn't tell me that you were going to swap out the trucks! We nearly almost did crash!"

"Oh…" Philip sighed, "I only did it because I wanted to make you look stronger and braver, but instead I almost ruined everything… I'm so sorry." Charlie was touched.

"Heh, it's alright. I shouldn't have ever thought of the idea in the first place. For what it's worth, you did good, kid."

Philip's face lit up.

"I did?!"

Charlie chuckled.

"Yes, but you better head on back to the shunting yard now. There's a lot of trucks there, and I can't be around to help you!"

"Alright, Charlie! See you soon!" Philip honked his horn excitedly and raced off. Charlie watched him leave, sighing wistfully. Edward pulled up alongside him.

"So, it all worked out in the end, just as you intended, didn't it?"

Charlie jumped.

"E-Edward? I, um, don't know what you mean…"

"Come now, Charlie, it was obvious to me that you had some sort of plan going."

Charlie groaned and looked at his buffers.

"I suppose you're going to tell everyone now, aren't you?"

"Nothing of the sort."

Charlie looked up, taken by surprise.

"What? Why not?"

"You've been through enough, Charlie," Edward said sympathetically, "and besides, in the end, you really were a hero." Charlie smirked.

"I really was, wasn't I?"

"Just promise you won't ever do something like that again," Edward added firmly.

"Yes, of course, Edward," agreed Charlie quickly. Edward smiled.

"Good. Now, you best put those logs back where Philip found them."

Edward whistled and set off back down the branch line, leaving Charlie to sigh with relief.

* * *

By evening, Charlie was worn out, and was having a rest underneath the darkening sky. Edward pulled into the station, grinning.

"Oh, hey, Edward," Charlie yawned.

"Hello, Charlie. The Fat Controller said he wanted to see you at Knapford." Charlie gasped.

"Wait, you said you wouldn't tell!" Edward laughed.

"Don't worry, I didn't say a single word to anyone."

"But then, why-"

"Just follow me, and you'll find out!" Edward reversed down the line towards Knapford. Charlie moved out of his siding and reluctantly followed.

* * *

When the two arrived at Knapford, the station was quiet and empty, only Toby departing from the first platform with Henrietta. Toby rang his bell as he trundled past. Charlie glanced at Edward.

"Edward, is this a prank? Because, if so-"

"No, no, we're just not there yet." Edward rolled forward, Charlie close behind. When they puffed into the yard, Charlie gaped in shock - engines crowded the sidings, James and Philip at the forefront. Standing in front of all of them was The Fat Controller.

"W-What's going on?" Charlie stammered. The Fat Controller stepped forward and, to Charlie's further surprise, he was smiling!

"Charlie, I must say, you really have redeemed yourself today, haven't you? You not only worked very hard at Wellsworth from what Edward told me, but you also saved Philip and James from a very nasty collision!"

Charlie grinned.

"Thank you, sir! It was nothing though, really!"

The Fat Controller was about to speak when Philip rolled forwards.

"It was more than nothing, you're a hero, Charlie!"

"Quite right, Philip," agreed The Fat Controller, "I'd say you've earned back your place here at Knapford."

Philip honked in agreement, noticed James wasn't celebrating with him and gave him a look. James rolled his eyes and whistled. Soon, all the engines were whistling, and even Stafford smiled. Charlie beamed.

"Thanks, everyone, this means a lot!" He paused. "You know, since you're all here, how about a few jokes, eh?"

Immediately, engines started to groan, causing Charlie to laugh.

"I'm only kidding, don't worry."

The engines looked at each other and started to laugh. Charlie was amazed - everyone was laughing at something _he_ said! He looked to Edward, who grinned and winked.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Yep, it's a sequel to _April Fools_! Whilst writing that story, I knew this was going to be a two-parter as it ended on a promise of redemption, and so here it is. Tying this into the previous story was interesting as I haven't really done that in a long time, but it was fun to do, especially bringing Bill and Ben back for a moment of taunting. It was also really fun writing Charlie, more so than I ever anticipated, as was forming his dynamic with Philip. Philip himself I haven't written too often so far, but he's also becoming one of my favorites to write, so expect to see both of them relatively frequently in the coming stories, Philip more so. I hope you liked this, and, to give you a hint as to what the next story's going to be (which is my new system now), it'll be about a certain "Old Faithful!"


	7. Enginenapped!

**ENGINENAPPED!**

* * *

The Skarloey Railway is a very old one, even older than the North Western. Skarloey and Rheneas have been a part of the line for most of its years, and have been around much longer than most of the other engines on the island. One morning, before the sun had come up, Skarloey had woken up early. Skarloey knew it would be a while before his crew came to steam him up, and he couldn't help but feel bored. To pass the time, he tried finding something interesting to look at, but everything was the same as it always was. Skarloey sighed and simply looked up at the dawn sky. All was silent and still in the shed until Rheneas eventually stirred.

"Good morning, Skarloey," he whispered sleepily. But Skarloey didn't reply - he was too lost in thought. Rheneas frowned. "Skarloey?" Skarloey jumped.

"Oh, erm, sorry, Rheneas. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

"Well..." Skarloey trailed off. "I know you don't like thinking of yourself this way, but you and I are very... old." Rheneas rolled his eyes playfully.

"Why'd you have to remind me..." Skarloey wasn't so jovial though.

"So, with that in mind, do you ever wonder if we are so old that we have seen everything there is to see? That now, nothing can surprise us anymore?"

"That's a morbid thought, isn't it?" Rheneas chuckled, but Skarloey remained stoic. Rheneas' chuckles became uneasy.

"Oh, you're… serious… Skarloey, are you alright?"

"Simply musing is all. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Rheneas wasn't so sure, but didn't particularly want to think about it. He was about to try and retort when Skarloey and Rheneas' crews arrived.

"Come on, old boy," grinned Skarloey's driver with spirit, "We'll get you ready first. We've got our first run soon." Skarloey sighed.

"Just as always... Alright, driver." The driver didn't notice his engine's somber tone, and he and the fireman quickly set to getting him ready for work. Rheneas, however, was concerned.

"Skarloey, are you sure you're ready to take trains?" Skarloey grimaced but said nothing, so Rheneas continued. "If you'd like, I could take the first train to give you a bit more time to rest. Perhaps the sun may cheer you up. Besides, it's a bit of a change." Skarloey gave a small smile.

"Thank you, Rheneas. I wouldn't want to upset my friends."

"What? But Skarloey, we just steamed you up!" protested the driver, "What are we supposed to do now?"

"We could just keep him in steam," suggested the fireman, "There may be another job that needs doing, in which case we'll be ready. In the meantime, let's see if stationmaster has any more tea."

The driver was reluctant, but agreed. They went off to the station, leaving Rheneas' crew to shrug and steam their engine up.

"Thank you again, Rheneas," Skarloey said gratefully, "I just hope this doesn't become a habit."

"Oh, it won't, not with you being so stubborn," Rheneas teased. The two engines quietly laughed as Rheneas slowly rolled out of the shed. Skarloey yawned and shut his eyes. Rheneas' puffing had woken up Peter Sam, who barely opened his eyes to see him leaving before heading back to sleep.

* * *

Rheneas collected the coaches and puffed to the station, where James was waiting impatiently.

"Where's Skarloey?" James snapped, "He usually pulls this train, and gets here on time too."

"He was feeling um… unwell, so I offered to take his place."

"How noble of you," James huffed sarcastically. Rheneas rolled his eyes. As the passengers climbed aboard the train, he saw two children who weren't anywhere near the coaches, instead still standing on the standard gauge platform.

"Who are they, James? Are they passengers?" Rheneas asked. James glanced over.

"Oh, them? They're not passengers, I think they're young rail enthusiasts. They come up here every morning and stand there, watching trains go by."

"That's all they do?"

"They're harmless, but it's a shame they don't have cameras with them. Then they could take pictures of me and I could really show how splendid I-"

As James was yammering on, Rheneas looked at the children again, who seemed to have not taken any notice of them.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, James," Rheneas interjected as he started rolling away, "but I have passengers to take. Goodbye!" James hadn't noticed that Rheneas was leaving, but by the time he did, he was gone. James scoffed.

"Narrow gauge engines..." he muttered. He blew his whistle and departed in a huff. The two children looked at each other.

"You know, Peter, that red engine was right," one spoke up.

"Which one, Stewart?" asked the other.

"The one with the number."

"But they both have numbers, don't they?"

"I... never mind. Anyway, just watching trains pass through until daddy comes and gets us is getting a little boring."

"But I like watching them!"

"I didn't ask you. How about we do something that's more fun?"

Peter frowned.

"Like what...?"

* * *

Peter and Stewart surveyed the shed. The little engines slept soundly, unaware of their presence.

"We're still just looking at them," Peter pointed out.

"Shh!" hissed Stewart, "You could wake them up!" Sir Handel loudly snored in response to this. "Besides, we're going to do more than just look at them. We're going to _drive_ one." Peter gasped.

"But daddy said not to touch them!"

"Daddy's an old stick-in-the-mud. Do you want to be a stick-in-the-mud too?"

"Um…"

"Come on, driving an engine isn't that hard. Now, help me choose one."

Peter looked at the array of sleeping engines, until he heard a small hissing sound. He turned and saw Skarloey, who had a light billow of smoke coming from his funnel. Peter pointed at him.

"That one's in steam already!"

Stewart grinned and, not bothering to question why he was, the two boys climbed aboard Skarloey's cab.

"Wow, these controls look even better than the pictures daddy showed us!" Peter in amazement.

"Don't get too excited, you're just shoveling coal. _I'm_ driving."

"What? You said we could both drive it!"

"That's not how driving a steam engine works, Peter," Stewart sneered, tossing him the shovel, "Just don't burn yourself." Peter pouted and started shovelling coal into the firebox. Stewart studied the cab controls for a moment before tugging on the regulator. Skarloey, being asleep of course, wasn't aware of the newfound activity in his cab. Slowly, his wheels began to move.

"We're moving, we're moving!" cheered Peter excitedly, "Now, we can be real drivers!"

"You're a fireman, but whatever makes you happy," murmured Stewart, but even he became excited as Skarloey moved out of the shed and towards the open line.

* * *

Skarloey approached the station, still asleep. On the standard gauge line, Paxton rolled in with a train of oil tankers. He hummed to himself until he saw Skarloey rolling along the line, eyes still closed.

"Skarloey?" Paxton gaped, slamming on his brakes in surprise. Skarloey didn't answer. "Is he… sleep-puffing?" He closed his eyes and by the time he opened them again, Skarloey had already moved out of sight. "I must be seeing things…" Paxton continued on, not giving it a second thought. Just as he left, Henry rumbled through, whistling briskly. This gave Peter an idea.

"Oh, let's try whistling! I always wanted to blow the whistle!" Stewart reluctantly stepped aside. Peter eagerly jumped and tugged on the whistle chain. Skarloey's whistle blew loud and long, causing the two to cheer - but they didn't realize that this had woken Skarloey up!

"Huh? What's going on?" Skarloey yawned. He then realized he was moving. "You could've woken me first, driver," he muttered indignantly. Peter and Stewart didn't dare breathe.

"These trucks feel rather light today at least. It's almost as if they aren't even..." Skarloey looked back to find he wasn't pulling anything at all.

"What?" he gasped, "Where's my train? What sort of joke is this, driver?"

"W-What do we do?" Peter whispered to Stewart, "If we're caught-"

"Who's that back there?" Skarloey demanded, noticing the two unfamiliar figures in his cab "You're not my driver!"

"Now you've done it," snapped Stewart, "Don't say anything else, leave it to me." He cleared his throat. "Uh, we're your relief crew for today." Peter mouthed "Seriously?", but Stewart elbowed him in the ribs. Skarloey narrowed his eyes.

"What kind of a fool do you take me for? I would've been told, and besides, you're far too young! I have no idea who you two delinquents are, but take me back to my shed at once!" To his surprise, Stewart just chuckled.

"Why would you want to miss out on the fun? Just relax and enjoy the ride."

"What?! You are _not_ taking me out on a joyride!" Skarloey fired back.

"Why can't we? You can't stop us," Stewart snickered. Skarloey glared and tried applying his brakes, only to find that he couldn't! "Say, Peter, how about we speed this up a little?"

Peter cheered as Stewart opened the regulator wider. Skarloey started to speed up, causing him to gulp.

* * *

Henry's whistle had woken up Peter Sam, who glared in the direction the big engine had left in.

"Bother that Henry! Someone should teach him some manners," he huffed earnestly, "Isn't that right, Skarloey?" Peter Sam looked over, expecting to see Skarloey agreeing with him, but instead saw nothing at all - Skarloey was gone!

"S-Skarloey? Where are you?" Peter Sam frantically looked about the shed, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"O-Oh no! Everyone, wake up, wake up!" he shouted, jolting the others awake, "Skarloey's gone missing!"

"What?" mumbled Duncan sleepily, "Peter Sam, do ye have any idea what time it is?"

"No, but I don't care! Skarloey's _gone_!"

Duncan and Rusty shared a look.

"Peter Sam, Skarloey typically takes his first train this early in the morning," Rusty said patiently.

"You don't understand!" Peter Sam insisted, "Rheneas took it instead, I saw him! So Skarloey should still be here!" Sir Handel scoffed.

"Peter Sam, you're making a fool out of yourself. Skarloey just gallivanted off to do something else, which is certainly not something to wake _me_ over! I was having such a good dream too!"

Just then, Skarloey's crew came back, looking rather refreshed.

"Stationmaster knows how to brew a good tea," the driver chuckled before stopping in his tracks. "...where's Skarloey?"

"You should know!" Sir Handel retorted, "You're his crew!"

"Well, we don't! We left him parked by Peter Sam, and now he's not there!" the fireman exclaimed. Rusty's eyes widened.

"But if he's not here then… that means…" Everyone looked at each other in disbelief, barring Peter Sam, who was still sulky.

"And you didn't believe me! Huh! The least you can do now is call for help!"

"Right, he couldn't have gone far," agreed the driver, and he and the fireman ran back to the station, leaving the engines in suspense.

* * *

Skarloey continued to puff faster and faster. The more he sped up, the more frightened he got.

"Please, stop this now!" he tried again desperately, "This is too dangerous, especially for children like you!" Stewart rolled his eyes

"You think we can't handle driving you? Gosh, you're just like daddy."

"Wait, daddy!" Peter cut in anxiously. Stewart turned, annoyed.

"What about him?"

"He should be at the station by now, shouldn't he? If he is, he'll wonder where we are!"

Stewart's face paled.

"Oh… I forgot about that. If we don't hurry back now, we're going to be in big trouble."

"So you should be," Skarloey muttered, to which Stewart sped him up more.

"This is the wrong way!" Peter cried, "Let me do it!" Peter and Stewart started bickering over the regulator. Skarloey winced.

* * *

Rheneas was enjoying his trip along the line. He hadn't been out this early in a while, and was finding the peace and quiet to be enjoyable.

"Maybe I should ask Skarloey if I can take this train more often," he chuckled to himself. He had turned around at Skarloey Station, and was now heading back up to Crovan's Gate. When he pulled into Rheneas Station, he saw the stationmaster on the platform.

"Hello, sir! Good morning!" Rheneas called cheerfully. To his surprise, the stationmaster looked anxious.

"It isn't a good morning, Rheneas. Skarloey has disappeared!"

Rheneas gasped, horrified.

"What? How could that be?"

"I don't know myself, but I've gotten word from Skarloey's driver, and not even he knows where he is. I've just told The Thin Controller, and he wants us to be on high alert." Rheneas was stunned but assumed a determined expression.

"Don't worry, sir. I'll do my best to look for Skarloey. I'm coming down the line now, so I should be able to spot him." The stationmaster smiled with relief.

"Thank you, Rheneas." The guard blew the whistle and Rheneas departed, considerably less cheerful than before.

* * *

Skarloey rounded a bend, approaching his full speed. Peter and Stewart were still arguing.

"The longer we're gone, the more angry daddy will get!" Peter protested.

"But I want to drive longer!" Stewart whined, "Who knows when we'll get another chance at this?" Just then, the two heard a loud yell.

"BRAKE!" Skarloey shouted, "There's a branch on the track!" Peter and Stewart halted their argument and peeked out of the cab window. Sure enough, a large branch lay on the rails, right in their path! The boys gasped and started to panic.

"Brake lever! Where's the brake lever?" Stewart exclaimed, to which Peter started flicking random controls. Skarloey closed his eyes tightly, preparing for the worst. Before any of them knew it, Skarloey's front wheels slammed into the branch, jolting them off the rails. They came back down, crunching the ballast. The impact forced Skarloey to come to an abrupt stop. Slowly, Stewart and Peter stood up, bewildered.

"That's it?" Stewart muttered, but Peter tugged at his arm.

"Come on, we have to find daddy!" Peter and Stewart hopped down from the cab and started running off into the lush greenery beside the line.

"Wait! Come back! You can't just steal me out of my shed, derail me, and then leave!" But Peter and Stewart didn't care a bit, and were soon gone. Skarloey looked around to see if he could call for help, only to find no-one.

"I suppose I'll be stuck here for a while then…" he sighed.

* * *

Meanwhile, as Rheneas rolled along, he looked all around to see if he could catch a glimpse of Skarloey. However, he couldn't see him anywhere.

"An engine can't just disappear out of thin air…" Rheneas mused, "I hope wherever he is, Skarloey's alright." He whistled loudly, which echoed around the landscape. A short ways down the line, Skarloey heard the whistle and could see tall puffs of smoke in the distance.

"Rheneas!" he gasped to himself before calling. "Rheneas! I'm over here!" Rheneas rolled into view, face lighting up.

"Skarloey!" Rheneas came to a standstill alongside his friend. "What happened to you?" Skarloey grunted.

"Two silly boys who should never be near a train." Rheneas raised an eyebrow. "It's… a long story," Skarloey added sheepishly. Rheneas chuckled.

"You can tell me once I fetch the breakdown train and get you back onto the rails."

"What? I appreciate it and all, but you have passengers to take, which really are mine!"

"Don't worry about it," Rheneas reassured, "I'm sure your friends will just be happy you're safe and sound, just like I am." Skarloey smiled as Rheneas was uncoupled and hurried away.

* * *

The wait was agonizing for Skarloey, as his undercarriage felt rather uncomfortable, but he was absolutely delighted when he heard Rheneas' whistle again.

"Oh, thank goodness." The workmen set to work on wrapping chains around Skarloey. Then, the crane slowly lifted him up into the air before placing him back onto the rails again. "That's much better."

"Care to tell me what thrill you've been on all morning now?" Rheneas asked as he buffered up to him. Skarloey snorted.

"I wouldn't exactly call what happened 'thrilling.' Two cheeky lads took advantage of me being in steam, and stole me away on a joyride! I only stopped because a branch was on the line!"

"Oh my… What rascals children are these days!" Rheneas stopped and groaned. "I felt so old saying that…"

"Never mind," Skarloey chuckled, cheering up a bit, "They've always been rascals. Now, we best get back to the sheds. Can't keep the others in the dark forever." Rheneas chuckled too and he and Skarloey set off back to Crovan's Gate.

* * *

At the sheds, the engines were tense as they waited for any news regarding Skarloey. Suddenly, they heard a familiar whistle and watched excitedly as Rheneas pulled in, towing Skarloey.

"I knew it!" proclaimed Peter Sam, "I knew all along you were in trouble, Skarloey, but no-one else listened!" Sir Handel and Duncan quickly shushed him as workmen ran up. Peter Sam subsided as the workmen started examining Skarloey for damage. They found that he hadn't been hurt, and so Skarloey was able to work for the rest of the day.

* * *

By the time he came back to the sheds that night, everyone was already asleep, except Rheneas, who had a smirk on his face. Skarloey raised an eyebrow.

"What happened?" he asked cautiously. Rheneas grinned.

"I think you'll be pleased to know that we likely won't be seeing those boys again."

"Oh? What brought this on?"

"I wasn't there to see it, but James told me he saw The Thin Controller talking to their father, and the way he told it, those two will get quite the smacking when they get home! I don't think either of them are going to go near you anytime soon!"

"That's nice to hear, though I don't think they'd get far if they tried again anyway. The Thin Controller scolded my crew for keeping me in steam. Let's hope I won't need a 'relief crew!'"

The two chuckled and looked up at the twinkling stars above. There was silence for a moment before Skarloey spoke up.

"You know, I was proven wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I said that I can't be surprised anymore, but what happened today certainly surprised me!" Skarloey chuckled. "I suppose that there is plenty of life left to see after all." Rheneas smiled.

"And we'll be with each other every step of the way."

"Will you two be quiet? I'm trying to sleep," Sir Handel mumbled. Rheneas and Skarloey chuckled and closed their eyes, falling fast asleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Another outing from the narrow gauge engines, this time starring Skarloey and Rheneas! The two haven't gotten a lot of attention in the series, especially in recent years under the Brenner era. It's a shame, too, as the two have a really nice brotherly dynamic that was fun to explore. The other engines had small but still fun roles, especially Peter Sam, who I liked making the panicking one that no one listens to. As it happens, the other major duo in this story are also brothers, and writing them was... a bit nerve wracking, if I'm gonna be honest. I'm still uncomfortable writing human characters already not present in the series, though I think this time around was a lot better than previous attempts that I like to pretend don't exist. For clarification since I couldn't find a way to fit into the story proper, the two boys aren't young children, but they aren't teenagers either. I like to think of them as tweens or so, but that's just me. Next time, we will be returning to the big railway in a Halloween adventure! See you then!


	8. Spooky Shunting

**SPOOKY SHUNTING**

* * *

Paxton had been busy all day, taking trucks of slate from the Blue Mountain Quarry to the docks. He was grateful that he had only one train left before he could rest. As he pulled in, he saw some of the narrow gauge engines crowding eagerly around Skarloey.

"Huh. I wonder what they're doing," he thought and pulled alongside. "Hello, everyone! What's going on?"

"Oh, hello, Paxton!" cried Luke, "Skarloey's going to start telling spooky stories soon! His stories are the best!" A look of horror crossed Paxton's face, but Luke didn't notice. Skarloey chuckled.

"Thank you, Luke. I... Paxton, are you alright?" Paxton smiled sheepishly as the engines looked at him with concern.

"Y-Yes, Skarloey, of course I am! I feel great! Better than ever!" he said, though his trembling said otherwise. Luke smiled, not catching on.

"Oh, I would hope so! It'd be a shame if you broke down just before Halloween!"

"H-Halloween?!" Paxton exclaimed. The little engines shared a look. Skarloey cleared his throat.

"Erm, yes, Paxton. Halloween's going to be in a few days."

Paxton gulped and scurried over to his trucks. He blasted his horn and started racing out of the quarry.

"S-Sorry, can't stop! Have to see a coach about a train!"

Luke raised an eyebrow at Skarloey.

"I didn't know Paxton pulled coaches."

* * *

"It's almost Halloween! What am I going to do?" Paxton wailed as he raced along the Main Line. He was quick to drop off his train at Brendam, leaving before Salty or Porter could say "hello" to him.

"He seemed to be in a rush," commented Porter.

"You engines are always in a rush," Cranky grumped, "Just shut up and let me _try_ to take a nap before the Kipper comes." Salty and Porter glanced at each other and continued tidying up the quay.

* * *

By the time Paxton arrived at the Dieselworks, it was dark, and he was more on-edge than ever. As he quietly reversed into his berth, he didn't notice Den and Dart talking amongst themselves.

"Did you see the big jack o' lantern they put up at Knapford, Den?" Dart quizzed. Den became lost in thought as he tried thinking of a response.

"Hmm… Yes, I do remember seeing it."

"Isn't it big? It looked like it was as tall as the station itself!" Dart continued, obviously more interested in the subject than Den, "You know what would be funny, Den?"

"What?"

"If that jack o' lantern got possessed and started rolling around. It'd destroy the whole building!" This snapped Paxton from his thoughts.

"W-What?! Knapford's being destroyed?!" Dart stopped laughing and glared.

"No, Pax, Knapford is fine. It was a hypothetical scenario." But Paxton still looked worried. Den glanced disapprovingly at Dart.

"Come now, Dart, you know Paxton gets… sensitive around Halloween." At the mention of the holiday, Paxton's teeth started to chatter. "Oops. Sorry, Paxton."

"Well, he shouldn't be! I bet that jack o' lantern isn't even a real pumpkin!" Dart harrumphed and reversed into the shed. At that moment, a loud horn echoed around the Dieselworks. Paxton jumped as Winston and The Fat Controller drove up to the shed. The Fat Controller walked over, looking relieved.

"Ah, hello, Paxton, just the engine I need. I know it's on short notice, but I have an important job for you."

"An i-important job, sir?" Paxton stuttered.

"Yes. I need you and Diesel to head down to Crosby Yard. It's become a mess, and I need a pair of shunters to organize the trucks. It is essential that it's cleared up before morning. Do you think you can do that, Paxton?" Paxton didn't want to go in the dark just before Halloween, but he put on a brave face for The Fat Controller.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled reluctantly.

"Excellent. I would like to tell Diesel too, but I haven't the faintest idea where he is. If you find him, do tell him his job, will you?"

"Alright, sir… Oh dear…" Paxton nervously rolled out of the shed and into the night.

"I don't envy him…" muttered Dart. But The Fat Controller wasn't done - he walked into the shed and saw BoCo having a rest.

"BoCo, I'll also need you to go to Crosby to take away the trains that Diesel and Paxton will shunt."

"Of course, sir," BoCo agreed, "That won't be a problem." With that, The Fat Controller cheerfully climbed aboard Winston and drove away. When they were gone, BoCo's face fell.

"Oh dear, I hope my engine won't cause too much trouble. I've been having a bit of a problem with it lately."

"We can give you a quick tuneup, if you like," Den offered.

"I appreciate it, but I'm afraid I can't, Den. I have a job to do." BoCo honked his horn and started rolling away. As he did so, his engine made a loud grinding noise, causing Den and Dart to wince.

* * *

Paxton had traveled along the line to the Dieselworks several times without any issue, but tonight, everything seemed spooky. Tree branches looked like fingers reaching out to grab him off the rails, and several owls' large eyes seemed to stare right at him. Paxton gulped.

"Hello," he called nervously, "Can we be friends?" An owl hooted and Paxton ran away as quickly as he could. He soon arrived at Kellsthorpe Road, not noticing a black shape taking on fuel at the refueling station. The figure saw Paxton and smirked. It started rolling slowly alongside him and shouted, "BOO!" Paxton yelped and froze in fear. The figure started laughing, revealing himself to be Diesel.

"Oh, that was too rich! I can't believe you still fall for that one!" It took Paxton a moment to realize what just happened.

"Wait, Diesel?"

"The one and only," Diesel smirked. Paxton frowned.

"But I'm… also a diesel." Diesel's proud smirk slid right off his face. "Say, um, Diesel, what are you doing out here in the dark? Are you hiding from those scary birds?"

"Birds? What are you… why do I bother. I was on my way back to the Dieselworks, and I had to fill up on fuel, alright? Do you understand that?"

"Oh! Why didn't you say so?" Diesel's eye twitched.

"I could say the same to you," he huffed accusingly, "It's not like a scaredy engine to travel at night."

"I was, uh, searching for you actually. The Fat Controller wants the both of us to go shunt at Crosby." Diesel gaped.

"What?!"

"I know, I was surprised too! I mean, it's so scary out here and-"

"Me? _Me?!_ Go and shunt in the middle of the night? Why can't one of those wretched tank engines do it?"

"I didn't… ask him that…" said Paxton meekly. Diesel growled.

"Of course you wouldn't…" Diesel rumbled away, leaving Paxton in the station. Paxton looked around anxiously and spotted some bushes shaking as if something big was moving through them.

"Diesel, wait! Don't leave me!" Paxton wailed and he raced after Diesel. Just as Paxton left, BoCo rolled in and saw a deer poking its head out through the bushes. He glanced from the deer to the disappearing Paxton.

"…huh. Funny little fellow."

* * *

Diesel complained the whole way to Crosby. Paxton wasn't paying attention, but was nonetheless glad when they finally approached the station.

"I mean, I wanted to get a good night's rest, but that's not going to happen, is it?" Diesel grumbled, "Trust The Fat Controller to give me the dirty work…" Diesel stopped and gaped as every siding was filled with trucks. In the middle of all of them was a sheepish Stafford.

"Diesel? What's the matter?" Paxton asked, not really understanding. He then spotted Stafford. "Oh hello, Stafford!"

"Um… heh heh… hello, you two," Stafford chuckled awkwardly before gulping as Diesel scowled at him. "I… can explain."

"You better, or you'll regret making me come out here," Diesel snarled.

"Diesel, look, I really can. I was just minding my own business, taking a short train up here when I noticed how messy the yard was, so I asked for permission to stay here for a little bit and help fix it. Philip promised to look after Knapford, so I thought everything was alright."

"I swear, if you drone on for ten minutes-"

"I'm almost done. I started shunting, but then I… got a bit carried away. I forgot Crosby doesn't have a charging station and I… ran out of battery." Stafford sighed. "Now, I'm stranded here." Diesel gnashed his teeth.

"Let's just get this over with…" With that, Diesel begrudgingly set to work, but Paxton was still anxious.

"I hope some scary thing doesn't sneak up on me…" Immediately after he said this, a loud horn blasted and BoCo rolled up behind him. Paxton jumped and cried out in surprise.

"Oh, sorry, little fellow. Didn't mean to scare you," BoCo said apologetically. Diesel glared.

"Scaring Paxton is _my_ job, BoCo. Go away!" BoCo rolled his eyes.

"I can't exactly do that. I'm here to help you."

"Then actually be helpful and take these trucks away." He bumped the trucks into BoCo, who glared back and started rolling off. Stafford, having witnessed the whole ordeal, noticed Paxton still shaken.

"Paxton seems jumpy today… er… tonight," he noted to Diesel. Diesel scoffed.

"The poor sod's scared of Halloween, don't ask me why. Around this time of year he gets startled by just about everything." He trailed off, getting a naughty idea. "That'll shut him up…" he smirked to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just sit there, Stafford, while we do the real work." Stafford watched suspiciously as Diesel started shunting again.

* * *

Stafford continued to watch as the diesels shunted the trucks, but to his surprise, Diesel left Paxton alone.

"He's up to something…" Stafford muttered. After a while, a tired looking yardmaster strode up to Diesel and Paxton.

"Ah yes, very fine work so far. Now, I want one of you to take Stafford back to Knapford. His battery needs to recharge." Diesel smirked - his chance had come.

"I'll be right on it, sir, I just need to… talk to Paxton first." Before anyone could object, Diesel rattled away to the other end of the yard. The yardmaster shrugged and took a sip from his coffee mug. Paxton was nervously shunting some trucks when Diesel rolled up beside him, pretending to look frightened.

"Paxton!" Paxton jumped and his trucks went flying.

"D-Diesel? Are you alright?"

"Paxton, I am so sorry I d-didn't believe you before," Diesel stammered, "I-I just saw… a _ghost_!" Paxton gasped.

"A g-ghost?!"

"Yes, Paxton! I saw him, I think he's on the hunt! H-He would've gotten me if I hadn't hidden behind you!" Paxton's face paled.

"B-But doesn't that mean he saw me?" Diesel did his best not to laugh.

"I'm afraid so, Paxton. He's going to try and hunt you down now. You better be on your guard - I won't be here to protect you."

"W-What?! Diesel, wait!" Diesel scurried back to where Stafford was waiting and gave him a bump.

"Get moving you," Diesel grunted and he began pushing him away. Stafford raised an eyebrow.

"What did you tell Paxton exactly?"

"Just told him to be careful." Stafford wasn't convinced, but there was little he could do. Diesel chuckled under his breath as they passed by Paxton and headed onto the Main Line.

* * *

Thoughts of the ghost buzzed in Paxton's head, and he couldn't concentrate on the job. Since the yardmaster had gone back to the station, he decided to take a break to steady his nerves.

"It's o-okay… it's okay…" Paxton tried telling himself, "…it's not okay. No, no, it w-will be, I just need to hide from the g-ghost, and hope it won't find m-me. Like hide-and-seek! ...I don't like this version." A loud horn echoed around the yard. Paxton gasped and hid behind some tall ballast hoppers. He didn't dare breathe as a figure pulled into the yard. Seconds felt like hours as Paxton felt sure he was doomed. However, to his amazement, he heard the figure leave. Slowly, he rolled out from his hiding place to make sure the yard was clear.

"Wow, I did it! Paxton isn't being hunted tonight!" he smiled proudly, until a thought struck him. "Unless he comes back."

* * *

Diesel was in no rush to get back to Crosby, but Stafford eventually forced him to leave. As soon as he finally arrived, Paxton raced up to him, white as a ghost.

"Diesel, Diesel! I-I almost got hunted!"

"…what?"

"The ghost came straight into the yard and almost caught me! Luckily, I hid behind some trucks, and he l-left. You're right, he i-is looking for me!" Diesel didn't want to admit it, but he was a bit unnerved by what Paxton had said.

"Paxton, that's silly, how could he? You must've been imagining things-" Diesel got cut off by the hoot of a nearby owl. Paxton gasped.

"The scary bird is back!" Just then, Gordon rumbled by with the late express, his whistle startling the two diesels. Diesel quickly composed himself.

"Owls are everywhere, get a hold of yourself. Nothing is going to happen tonight." Just after Diesel said this, a gust of wind blew. The trees creaked in the wind, one branch eventually breaking and falling to the ground with a thump. Diesel jumped.

"I-I don't think the ghost liked what you said," Paxton whimpered. Diesel scoffed.

"Oh, really? And just how do you know that?" The wind slammed the door to a nearby workman's hut shut. Diesel jumped again.

"Grr, no! I'm not a scaredy engine like you, I'm not! I can't keep being startled by these noises!" Despite how brave he sounded, Diesel was beginning to feel uneasy.

* * *

Meanwhile, BoCo pulled into Brendam Docks with a yawn. The quay was mostly quiet now, as most of the dock workers had gone home, and Salty and Porter were asleep. Cranky, however, was still unloading ships.

"Say, um, Cranky?" BoCo called. Cranky looked down disdainfully.

"What do you want? I don't have time to waste with buzzboxes."

"No matter how you feel, I think my engine's been getting worse. Do you know where The Fat Controller is?"

"Gone home," Cranky grunted disinterestedly. BoCo groaned.

"Bother. I'm not sure I'll be able to make it the rest of the night…"

"Well, that's your fault for not making a _buzz_ earlier." Cranky chuckled at his own joke while BoCo scoffed and rolled away.

* * *

The night was dragging on, and thoughts about the ghost weighed heavily on Diesel and Paxton. Because of this, the shunting was taking longer than it should have.

"D-Diesel, what if the ghost follows us home?" Paxton asked.

"Bah, then I'll show him who's boss. I'll hunt _him_ down." Just then, a loud grinding noise echoed around the yard. Diesel and Paxton froze.

"What was that?" Diesel snapped. Paxton's eyes widened.

"T-That's the very sound I heard before! H-He is coming back!" The noise came again, this time louder. Diesel looked around frantically.

"Every engine for himself!" he shouted and raced out of the yard, screaming. Paxton gasped.

"W-Wait, Diesel! Come back!" he called, but it was no good - Diesel had disappeared out of sight.

* * *

Diesel hurried along the line as quickly as his wheels could carry him. He was absolutely terrified and wasn't aware of where he was going.

"Ghosts, ghosts! Get away from me!" he cried, closing his eyes tightly. Unbeknownst to him, up ahead on the line, BoCo was coming back to collect another train. His eyelids were half-closed as he struggled to stay awake.

"Soon… be over…" he mumbled. In the distance, he could hear screaming, coming closer and closer. "Huh. Wonder who that is." Suddenly, his engine made the loudest sound of all and gave out entirely. BoCo slowed to a crawl, eventually stopping. "Oh, bother." Diesel heard the noise too and went even faster.

"The ghost is after meee-" He got cut off as he rounded a bend and bashed straight into BoCo. The impact brought Diesel to a stop, though their front wheels had derailed, leaving them stranded. BoCo wasn't sleepy anymore.

"Stop screaming, you buffoon! Why are you running around aimlessly in the middle of the night? You're supposed to be at Crosby!" Diesel stopped and slowly opened his eyes to see the predicament he had gotten himself into.

"BoCo, save me, please!" Diesel panicked, "The ghost will hunt me down!"

"Ghost? What are you talking about?"

"A ghost is about, BoCo! It makes a horrible grinding sound whenever it's near!" BoCo just became more confused.

"Grinding sound? Diesel, are you talking about my engine?"

"I… wait, what?"

"My engine's been making strange sounds lately. I think my gears are acting up - that must've been what you heard." Diesel gaped and gritted his teeth.

"So you're telling me that the ghost was really just a fake story I used to scare Paxton after all?" BoCo frowned.

"I… suppose so?" Down at the station, Paxton had heard the collision and came to see if everyone was alright. Now, though, he looked hurt.

"You tried to scare me, Diesel?" Paxton gasped. Diesel realized that Paxton had overheard him and squirmed.

"Er… yes?"

"I thought we were friends!"

"We were friends?"

"I hate to interrupt," BoCo cut in, "but can you please call for help, little fellow? I don't exactly want to stay out here all night." Paxton hurried away, doing his best not to look at Diesel.

* * *

"…he didn't abandon us, did he?" Diesel asked sometime later. BoCo scoffed.

"Would serve you right." Diesel growled but before he could retort, they both heard a horn. Paxton rolled in, behind him a yawning Harvey and following both of them was…

"Diesel!" Diesel winced as The Fat Controller angrily stepped down from Paxton's cab and walked up to him, still in his pajamas. "What have you been playing at all night? Terrorizing Paxton and then damaging BoCo?"

"It's not like that, sir, I didn't _mean_ to hit BoCo, I just…"

"…didn't look where you were going," The Fat Controller finished sternly, "Now, thanks to you, both you and BoCo will have to be repaired. I'll be telling Den and Dart to specifically have BoCo repaired first, and only mend you after. Understand?" Diesel gasped.

"What? That's not fair, sir!"

"What I think would be fair is you apologizing to Paxton for terrifying him with some foolish ghost nonsense." Diesel groaned.

"Ugh… Sorry, Paxton," he muttered, not sounding that genuine. Paxton nonetheless smiled. BoCo raised an eyebrow.

"Don't I get an apology? You did crash into me."

"I feel like I should get one too, since you made me come out here so late," added Harvey. Diesel gritted his teeth as everyone chuckled.

* * *

Harvey soon put Diesel and BoCo back onto the rails, afterward offering to take the rest of the trucks away. Paxton, meanwhile, was taking BoCo and Diesel to the Dieselworks, each on one wellwagon. Diesel was sulky and so was quiet, but Paxton was still worried.

"But the ghost has to be real, doesn't it?" he whispered, "I heard it when I was hiding in the yard!" BoCo thought for a moment.

"Must've been me and my blasted engine. Sorry about that, little fellow."

"My name's Paxton. I also like Pax, but hardly anyone calls me that."

"Ah, I see." The journey remained silent until BoCo spoke up again. "Diesel's done nothing but scare you too. How about we scare him for a change?"

"Okay! How do we do that?" BoCo whispered something to Paxton, who grinned eagerly. Diesel looked back.

"What are you two talking about back there?" he called suspiciously.

"We were going to warn you about something, Diesel," Paxton replied, "BoCo may have scared us, but I still heard that ghost back at the yard! It might still be hunting you down!" Diesel turned pale.

"W-What? No, it's not real! I-I just made that up!"

"You don't know that for sure though, do you?" BoCo inquired. The cavalcade approached the dark Dieselworks. Diesel glanced around in confusion as Paxton pushed the wellwagons towards the smelting foundry.

"What are we doing here?"

"What _you_ are doing there is waiting," BoCo corrected, "We're leaving." Diesel gasped as a workman uncoupled his wellwagon.

"Wait, no! BoCo! Paxton! You can't leave me! The ghost will get me!" he cried desperately.

"Sorry, Diesel," Paxton smiled, in a similar tone to Diesel's earlier apology, "but BoCo has to be repaired. Goodbye!" It took all of BoCo and Paxton's effort not to laugh as Paxton reversed to the main warehouse, leaving Diesel alone with his thoughts of the ghost.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Wow, I actually managed to finish a Halloween story this year. This time I planned it out much earlier in advance so it wasn't too difficult to write. It was pretty fun taking the Diesel and Paxton dynamic in a bit of a different direction along with throwing a couple other characters into the mix. Yes, BoCo appeared and it was also fun forming my new take on him. There'll be more of him pretty soon so keep an eye out on that. With that said, Happy Halloween, everyone!


	9. Christmas on the Roads

**CHRISTMAS ON THE** **ROADS**

* * *

Every year during the holiday season, passengers flocked to every corner of the island, including where the rails didn't reach. While the engines were busy pulling their trains, Bertie the Bus was taking his own passengers, and he was feeling the weight. One day, he tore down the road to Knapford Station, parking himself next to the platform where Thomas was waiting for him. Bertie panted heavily as he caught his breath.

"I'm-phew-sorry to have kept you waiting, Thomas. There was a horrid traffic jam in the town." Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"It was only a few minutes, Bertie. Nothing I can't make up for. Are you alright? You seem stressed." Bertie's forced smile slid off his face.

"You'd be stressed too if you had my schedule. You engines always moan about how overworked you are, but there are dozens of you! There aren't nearly as many of us buses! We're hardly keeping it together with all this demand! There are so many passengers at the stops that I have to leave many of them behind for the next bus!" Thomas was surprised; he hadn't expected such an outburst. Bertie stopped himself and sighed.

"Sorry, Thomas, didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just difficult to keep up with it all sometimes."

"Er… It's alright, Bertie. I didn't realize." Thomas smiled as a thought struck him. "Say, whenever there's too much work for us, The Fat Controller brings in a new engine. Maybe you'll get some help of your own soon." The guard blew the whistle and Thomas rolled away, leaving Bertie to scoff.

"Unlikely…" he muttered as his driver returned with a pastry from M.C Bunn.

"Cheer up, Bertie! Manager says there's a surprise waiting for us at the bus yard." Bertie gasped.

"A surprise? What do you mean? No one told me."

"Well, of course not. It wouldn't exactly be a surprise then, would it?" Bertie ignored the sarcastic reply and quickly grew excited.

"Maybe Thomas was right after all! Would certainly be a Christmas miracle!" he chuckled to himself. He honked his horn and hurried back down the road, eager to find out what was waiting for him.

* * *

Bertie rolled into the bus yard, more excited than ever.

"A new recruit would be wonderful for my aching tyres! I wonder what colour they'll be!" He stopped and looked around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He frowned. "Doesn't seem like there's anyone here, though."

"You always were the unobservant one, weren't you?" Bertie's eyes widened - rolling out from within the shed was a large, red double-decker bus who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Bertie gasped in horror.

"Bulgy?! B-But I thought you were a vegetable stand!" Bulgy rolled his eyes.

"Don't remind me. Worst job I ever took. I can't believe I let that emerald iron talk me into it. If you must know, I was turned back into a bus not too long ago so I could…" Bulgy gagged. "... _help_ you." Bertie stifled a groan.

"Oh… Well, it's not exactly what I had in mind, but I suppose it's better than nothing at all."

"Pah, not like you're picking up the slack. That's why they brought me in. Now, watch and learn how a _real_ bus works." Bulgy started rolling away to the station, snickering. Bertie gaped before glaring at his driver.

"Some surprise this turned out to be." The driver merely shrugged and took a bite out of his pastry.

* * *

Duck stood at the platform with his slip coaches, shivering as chilly gusts of wind blew under the station canopy. He continuously glanced between where Bertie always pulled up and the station clock.

"Come on, Bertie… I know the roads are icy, but you're never usually this late…"

"And you'd know a thing or two about being late, wouldn't you?" Duck froze, recognizing the voice instantly. He looked over and gasped before scowling.

" _Bulgy,"_ he snapped icily. Bulgy glared back. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you're not stealing my passengers this time. These are for Bertie."

"They won't want _Bertie_ once they've realized just how much more reliable I am." Duck opened his mouth to speak but got cut off as his passengers opened the coach doors and stepped onto the platform. They had never seen Bulgy before and were most impressed.

"Look at this, lads!" one remarked, "I've never seen such a smart-looking bus before!"

"An excellent purchase by the bus company, if you ask me," another commented. Bulgy sneered, not bothering to correct the fact he wasn't new as they crowded into him.

"See?" Bulgy smirked at a gaping Duck. "Nothing to it. That runt can rest easy in a scrapyard knowing I can take his passengers no problem."

"You're the one who got stuck under a bridge-"

"Oh, would you look at the time? I better hurry, or else I'll be as late as the runt!" Bulgy honked his horn. "I'll show you engines and that Bertie just what I can do." He drove away laughing, just as Bertie rolled up.

"Sorry, Duck!" panted Bertie, "I got caught behind a slow lorry and…" He broke off, seeing Bulgy toil down the road. Bertie shared a horrified glance with Duck.

"Did he just…?"

"Yup."

* * *

Bulgy made his way along Bertie's usual route. All around him, buildings were being decorated for the holidays. Several workmen were putting up a large Christmas tree by the church. Bulgy snorted.

"Stupid nonsense," he muttered - luckily, no one heard him. Just then, he saw Trevor up ahead, who was slowly chugging along with a cart. On top of the cart was a Christmas tree. Bulgy gritted his teeth as he slowly to a crawl behind Trevor.

" _You."_ Trevor looked back and smiled.

"Oh, hello, Bulgy. Fancy seeing you here." Bulgy's eye twitched.

"Get out of my way," he seethed, "My passengers are more important than some silly tree." Trevor frowned.

"It's not silly; it's the Christmas tree for the orchard. I, for one, think it'll look wonderful when it's all decorated." Bulgy snorted.

"Of course a simpleton like you would be so excited over a _tree_." Trevor raised an eyebrow.

"No need to be such a scrooge, Bulgy. It's Christmas! Everyone's so cheerful!"

"Not me," Bulgy huffed, "especially when rotten traction engines make me late." Having lost patience, he swerved onto the other side of the road and shot like a rocket into the distance. leaving Trevor to roll his eyes. Suddenly, he heard a frantic horn and Bertie hurried up behind him.

"Wait, stop! Stop!" he called out to Bulgy, but he was already gone. Bertie groaned and sulked.

* * *

At last, Bulgy rolled up to the first stop on the route. A large crowd of people stood beside the stop sign, some with shopping bags filled with gifts. They were most surprised to see Bulgy.

"Where's Bertie?" a woman asked.

"He's broken down. They sent me instead," Bulgy grunted, making up a lie on the spot. The passengers seemed to believe it and started climbing aboard. However, some remained standing out in the cold. Bulgy noticed this and glared.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, clearly restraining himself.

"Waiting for the next bus," a man explained, "Every day, we try and catch it before the seats are filled, but there's never enough room for everyone." Bulgy scoffed.

"Some sob story that is..." he muttered before speaking up. "You won't have to do that with me. I have double the seats of those _other_ buses. None of you are getting left behind today." The passengers cheered, each profusely thanking him as they got on. Bulgy wasn't used to such praise and felt rather uncomfortable. He raced back onto the road, just as Bertie pulled up. Bertie groaned.

"Oh, bother. I hope he at least left someone behind." But, when he looked, there wasn't a single person left. Bertie gaped.

"W-What?! H-He took everyone?!"

"It's not too surprising," the driver remarked, "Bulgy's a much larger bus, you know. A double-decker. He probably has double your capacity. No wonder no one's left here."

"You're not helping!" Bertie snapped.

* * *

With no passengers to take, Bertie sadly drove back to the bus yard, where he grumbled bitterly in the shed.

"It's not fair! I wanted help, not to be taken out of service!"

"Retiring already, Bertie? I'd have thought you wouldn't have given up so easily!" Bertie looked up to see a grinning Thomas rolling alongside the shed.

"Don't you start, Thomas. It's bad enough Bulgy took all of my passengers away." Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"Bulgy? I thought he was-"

"I know, I suppose he can't make up his mind. I wish he would go back to carrying vegetables, though. At least then I won't have to sit around here all Christmas." Thomas smirked.

"I thought you didn't want so much work? Now you're saying there's too little! You're never happy, are you?" Bertie sighed.

"You don't understand. The passengers all like him now because of how many seats he has. He doesn't have to leave people behind like I do." Thomas pondered the problem.

"When there's too many people at the platform, we just add more coaches; but I suppose you can't do that with a bus, can you?"

"No, I've only got the seats I have… and the standard is only one passenger per seat." Bertie suddenly grinned as he got an idea. "Unless… Yes, that's it! If I have more passengers pet seat, I can upgrade my capacity!"

"That doesn't sound like a good-" Emily's whistle cut Thomas off as she rumbled past with her two coaches towards the station. Bertie smirked confidently.

"I won't let Bulgy take my passengers _this_ time!" he chuckled and he raced away as quickly as he could. Thomas watched him leave and rolled his eyes.

* * *

Emily hummed to herself as she pulled into the platform, expecting a wait before the bus connection arrived. However, to her surprise, Bertie was already at the road entrance, grinning eagerly.

"Oh, hello, Bertie! You're early today," she remarked. Bertie tried to pretend the comment didn't sting.

"Yes, well, us buses have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"That's a relief. All these people need to get home; I just hope the next bus gets here soon." Bertie frowned.

"Next bus?"

"Of course! There are far too many passengers for one bus to take all at once." Bertie glanced between Emily and the passengers before smirking.

"I can!" Emily was taken aback.

"You? I don't mean to sound rude, but… you're not a very big bus." Bertie scowled.

"Bulgy isn't the only one who can take everyone at once, you know!" He defiantly honked his horn and put on a grin for the passengers. "All aboard, everyone! Room for every one of you!" The passengers looked at each other uncertainly but, one by one, started climbing aboard. It wasn't long before every seat was taken.

"What's the meaning of this? I was promised a bus with enough room!" a passenger grumbled.

"There is!" Bertie protested, "You'll just have to share your seats now! It's far more efficient." Reluctantly, the passengers did so. It was uncomfortable as everyone was squished together, but no one spoke up about it. Bertie grinned proudly.

"Ha, and to think you didn't believe in me, Emily! Not such a small bus now, am I?" He revved his engine and tried rolling forward, but found it more difficult than he expected. Emily winced.

"Are you sure about this, Bertie? You don't look too good."

"Of course I am! Just you wait, I'll do it!" With a great amount of effort, Bertie drove away, leaving a worried Emily behind.

* * *

All along his route, Bertie picked up and let off passengers, always insisting that he could carry them all. However, the added weight made him slower than usual, and the wasted minutes began to add up. By the time Bertie arrived at Ffarquhar, he was very late indeed.

"Ridiculous!" a passenger exclaimed indignantly, looking at their watch, "Ten minutes late! What terrible service!" Poor Bertie was exhausted. Bulgy watched from nearby, unimpressed.

"You should've just waited for me to come back instead of humiliating yourself like this. Clearly you can't even handle your own route."

"I can too!" Bertie retorted, "I just picked up a few extra passengers, that's all!" Bulgy rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like you picked up more than 'a few'," he snorted, glancing at the passengers pouring out of Bertie, "You weren't built for all that weight, you know. Stop whatever game you're doing before you blow out your engine." Bertie raised an eyebrow.

"You almost sound concerned." Bulgy's face reddened in both embarrassment and anger.

"I'm _not_! Just proving how small and useless you are." Flustered, he quickly drove away, grumbling to himself. Bertie rolled his eyes.

"Silly Bulgy. What does he know?"

"Maybe you should take his advice seriously," his driver suggested, "You were out of breath the whole way here."

"It's not advice, he's just insulting me and you know it. I'll show him! I just need to be faster!" Bertie grinned determinedly as a fresh set of passengers climbed aboard. The driver sighed as Bertie turned around and headed back down the road.

* * *

Despite Bertie's best efforts, he wasn't going as fast as he would like. He revved his engine and tried to surge forward.

"Come on, come on!" he wheezed as he trundled along the country road, "I can go much faster than this!" His driver was beginning to get nervous.

"I don't like the look of this, Bertie. Maybe we should-"

"Not you too! Everyone keeps saying I'm not capable, but I _am_!" Bertie's engine roared the loudest it ever had as the bus desperately tried to speed up. For a brief moment, Bertie did so, causing him to laugh triumphantly.

"See, driver? Having more people did no harm at all! It's-" Suddenly, Bertie's engine made a loud sputtering sound. "OUCH!" Bertie cried in pain. Smoke flew up from his radiator, covering him in a thick cloud. He started going slower and slower until he came to a standstill. The cloud dissipated, revealing a coughing and spluttering Bertie in its wake. His driver groaned and went to examine him.

"Now you've done it; you've blown out your radiator. You aren't going anywhere now." Bertie's passengers were furious.

"This rotten bus can't even go a few miles without breaking down! Ugh, we should've taken that new double-decker instead!" A chorus of complaining followed this. Bertie's driver cringed.

"You know, Bertie, I think perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here."

"Just go and get help," Bertie mumbled sadly. The driver looked around; not a farmhouse was in sight, nor any telephone boxes.

"Might be a long while, I'm afraid. I'll have to walk to the nearest station, possibly pick up another pastry while I'm there-" A loud horn interrupted him it echoed around the countryside. Bertie glared as Bulgy pulled up alongside him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Going home, what else? Why, aren't you doing the same?" he smirked, already knowing what the answer was. Bertie sighed.

"No… I've broken down." Bulgy was about to burst into laughter when he saw how upset Bertie was and merely looked away. "Please, Bulgy, can you take my passengers? They'll freeze out here if they can't get home for Christmas."

"What? _More_ work? I'm already practically working for the both of us and…" He trailed off, noticing the pleading looks on the passengers' faces. "...ugh, fine." The passengers cheered and practically ran into Bulgy. Bertie's driver was about to start off too when Bertie called out.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Home, of course. I've got a family to get to too, you know." Bertie sighed.

"Oh… So I guess I'll be alone on Christmas then."

"I suppose so. I doubt the tow trucks will be coming out this time of year. In the meantime, Merry Christmas, Bertie!" the driver called as he climbed aboard Bulgy, but it did little to cheer Bertie up. Bulgy couldn't help but feel rather awkward. He wanted to say something demeaning but something inside him decided against it. Instead, he grunted as he rolled away, leaving an increasingly depressed Bertie behind.

* * *

The rescued passengers were very grateful for Bulgy stepping in, yet he didn't hear any of their praise; he was too busy thinking about Bertie.

"Stupid runt…" he muttered, "Serves him right. Bah." However, he didn't sound quite as confident as before. By the time he had dropped off the final passenger, it was dark and beginning to snow.

"Ah well," Bulgy's driver mused, "A hectic first day, but at least you have tomorrow off." Bulgy didn't reply. "You know, you've been awfully quiet this whole trip; usually you'd be complaining about something. What's the matter?" Bulgy grit his teeth.

" _Nothing_. Just take me home so I can sleep this wretched holiday away." The driver shrugged and Bulgy turned onto the road towards Knapford. He looked around; a light blanket of snow covered the countryside now. For a moment, Bulgy's thoughts drifted back to Bertie and he briefly winced.

"Er, actually, we should make a quick stop at Dryaw first." The driver raised an eyebrow.

"Why? You have plenty of fuel-"

"Shut up and do it." The driver decided it was in his best interest not to argue. Soon, Bulgy pulled into Dryaw. Harold and Butch were in the airfield, surrounded by merry carolers. The two were most surprised to see Bulgy.

"Well, hello, old chap!" called Harold cheerily, "Merry Christmas!" Bulgy rolled his eyes, immediately regretting his decision.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

"Having our very own little Christmas party! It's quite fun. Why, have you come to join us?" Bulgy's eye twitched.

" _No_."

"...oh."

"What are you doing here then?" Butch quizzed, "Shouldn't you be back at the bus yard by now?" Bulgy let out a long sigh.

"I… I… Ugh, stupid Bertie broke down just down the road. Go and get him." Before either Harold or Butch could reply, Bulgy hurried away. The two shared a look.

* * *

Bertie was feeling more miserable by the minute. Snow had started to pile up around him, and Bertie sighed.

"I can't believe it… To think all I wanted to do was be more efficient and take back my passengers from Bulgy, yet instead I let everyone down. Now, I'm going to be stuck here until New Year's…" Bertie closed his eyes to try and sleep the night away when he heard a familiar horn.

"Is that…? No, it couldn't be… Why would he be out at this hour?" He opened one eye, only to see two beaming lights coming towards him. Bertie gasped and called out eagerly. "Over here!" Butch rolled up in front of Bertie, gaping.

"So he was telling the truth…" Butch muttered in amazement before speaking. "How did you get into this one, Bertie?" Bertie looked away in shame.

"I, uh… wanted to show how reliable I could be and took too many passengers all at once. I blew out my engine and now here I am." Butch chuckled.

"Why did you think you needed to do that? You're already reliable."

"Because Bulgy was taking all of my passengers as well as his own, leaving me nothing to do." Butch rolled his eyes as he turned around.

"He just can't stay out of trouble, can he?" Butch's driver attached the hook to Bertie and Butch started to pull.

"No, but I suppose neither can I. Thanks, Butch, for getting me out of this." Bertie frowned. "...say, how did you know I was here? My driver wasn't able to call for help."

"This might sound like an oxymoron, but Bulgy stopped by the airfield to tell me." Butch honked his horn and towed a stunned Bertie out of the snowdrift and back home.

* * *

When Bertie and Butch arrived at the bus yard, Bulgy was already in the shed, trying not to be noticed. Bertie winked at Butch.

"Hello, Bulgy! Surprised to see me?" Bulgy grimaced and pretended he didn't hear. Butch stifled a laugh. "You shouldn't be, you know," Bertie continued, grinning, "I already know what you did." Bulgy turned red in the face.

"I didn't do anything. Stop talking about it." He looked away away for a moment.

"You've always been a bad actor, you know." A short silence fell over the bus yard before Bertie broke it. "Thank you." Bulgy growled.

"Shut. Up," he demanded through gritted teeth. Butch maneuvered himself and reversed so Bertie would be able to sleep in the shed. The driver unhooked Bertie and Butch couldn't help but smirk.

"Merry Christmas, you two!" he called and he drove away. Bertie chuckled and looked across the yard; a workman had climbed a ladder and placed a large, yellow star on top of the Christmas tree. He then glanced at Bulgy.

"In future, mind not taking my passengers again?" Bulgy grunted.

"Only if you don't do something so utterly stupid again."

"Deal." Bertie yawned and started dozing off. "Merry Christmas, Bulgy." Bulgy remained silent until he was sure Bertie was fast asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Bertie." He had hoped that no one heard, but unfortunately for him, Butch had hidden himself behind the tree and heard everything. He chuckled to himself before rolling away back to Dryaw.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Happy New Year, folks! As one could probably guess, this story was supposed to come out at Christmas, but I'm a bit terrible at following schedules so instead it's pretty late, but here regardless. It was a bit difficult to write since it stars two characters I hardly write: Bertie and Bulgy. Bertie's a major character in the series yet isn't super distinct, while Bulgy _is_ distinct, it's just he's never been super consistent throughout his appearances sprinkled throughout the franchise. He went from being a revolutionary in _Bulgy_ to being a pleasant albeit still grumpy chap in _Bulgy Rides Again_ to still hating railways but being more polite about it in his recent return in _Unscheduled Stops_. My own take on him is sort of a mixture of the three, in that he hates railways, isn't afraid to show that (unless The Fat Controller's around, but we'll see that later), and does have a bit of a heart deep down. I know there's some resistance to making antagonists into anti-heroes, but I think it can add a new level of depth to them if done right. Don't worry, though, Bulgy will still be extremely antagonistic in future appearances, so look forward to that. This year, I want to try and get stories out a bit faster, as last year it was a bit sporadic, but don't hold me to that because knowing me, that won't happen. Still, it never hurts to try! With that likely-to-be-broken promise out of the way, next time a character that had a supporting role in a previous story will be getting their own lead. Try and guess which one! To close this off, hope you all have a good 2019, everyone. Let's make this year a good one!


	10. Trucks for Scrap

**TRUCKS FOR SCRAP**

* * *

BoCo is a large, green diesel engine. Though he can be seen on the Main Line, he primarily works with Edward on the branch line to Brendam Docks. Ever since he's arrived, Edward has taught BoCo everything he knows about trucks. Now, they know better than to give him any grief. One day, BoCo was tidying up the yard at Wellsworth. As usual, the trucks were well-behaved as they were shunted into their proper sidings.

"A fine job indeed, BoCo. Those trucks are never that quiet when Bill and Ben come up here." BoCo looked over to see the stationmaster walking up to him.

"I can imagine," he chuckled, "But thank you, sir. Just doing my job is all."

"In that case, you're going to start a different job. I've just gotten a call from the Steamworks; you're needed there right away." BoCo raised an eyebrow.

"A diesel at the Steamworks? Seems a bit unusual." The stationmaster shrugged.

"I'm just the messenger, but from what I've been told, the matter's urgent. Never mind the line, I'm sure Edward can take care of things by himself for a while."

"Alright, sir, if you say so." BoCo honked his horn and hurried away, feeling rather puzzled.

* * *

When BoCo rolled up to the entrance of the Steamworks, he was surprised to see no one waiting for him.

"Huh. That's odd," he muttered. BoCo cautiously edged forwards onto the transfer table. "Victor? Kevin?" Just then, he heard a loud groan of pain from inside.

"Well, that doesn't sound good." BoCo rolled inside and gasped - Donald and Douglas stood side-by-side, each looking very ill indeed. "Goodness gracious, you both look terrible! What happened?"

Donald attempted to say something but merely gagged instead, causing BoCo to wince. Victor rolled up with a sigh.

"These two took on some bad water at Vicarstown, or so their crews say. I'm amazed they made it here under their own power."

"Their boilers are filled with sludge!" added Kevin, sounding happier than he should've. Everyone looked at Kevin, who smiled sheepishly and hurried away.

"Ah, I see," BoCo said at last, "If I may ask, though, Victor, how do I come into this? I must've been sent here for a reason."

"Indeed you were, my friend; Donald and Douglas can't work right now, which means you'll have to take… 'The Scrap.'" BoCo's eyes widened.

"'The Scrap'?" Every so often, a train of rubbish was taken from the Steamworks to Crocks Scrap Yard. No one else wanted the job, so the train was given to Donald and Douglas, who alternated between each other. They had ominously dubbed it "The Scrap." The trucks were ruder, more awkward and noisier than most. Even to engines as experienced with trucks as Donald and Douglas, every journey was a misery. Because of this, BoCo wasn't too thrilled to hear he had to take it. Nonetheless, he tried not to sound too discouraged.

"Er… yes, Victor. I'll do my best." Victor smiled, but then he heard a crash from the back of the Steamworks.

"I'm okay!" called a voice. Victor groaned and reversed to check on Kevin.

"Are ye sure ye kin handle it, BoCo?" Douglas asked with a quiet and raspy voice, "Those silly trucks tak' no notice o' anything said tae them."

"Ah can go," Donald insisted firmly, trying to puff forward, but didn't move an inch before coughing fiercely. BoCo quickly rolled in front of him to block his way.

"Absolutely not, Donald; you have to stay here and get better," BoCo insisted, "Don't worry, you two, I'll be having no nonsense from those trucks. They'll come quietly, or else." Douglas smiled.

"Aye, show 'em who's boss." Donald still looked unconvinced but said nothing.

"Right. So, er… where are the trucks exactly?" BoCo asked awkwardly. Donald and Douglas shared a glance.

* * *

Upon getting his directions, BoCo arrived at the sheds by the station, where "The Scrap" was waiting. As soon as they saw him, the trucks started chatting to each other.

"What's this green thing?" one spat in disgust, "A caterpillar? We want a _real_ engine!" BoCo paid them no mind and gently reversed towards them. As soon as his buffers touched the front truck's, all of them started wailing loudly.

"You horrid monster!" they screeched, "You bumped us!" BoCo scowled.

"I did no such thing, though it's what you lot deserve."

"That's no way to talk, young'un! Respect your elders!" a truck scowled. BoCo opened his mouth to speak but instead sighed and started the train. The moment his wheels started turning, the trucks wailed again.

"Ooh, you really are horrid! Starting off without giving us poor old trucks a chance to take off our brakes!"

"The workmen have already taken off your brakes, stop messing around," BoCo ordered, but as one would expect, the trucks didn't. When BoCo tried moving again, the trucks screamed horribly. The noise could be heard in the Steamworks and everyone cringed.

"Och, he's in for a run," muttered Donald.

* * *

Despite the truck's very obvious protests, BoCo got the train moving. He rolled through Crovan's Gate, his trucks still screaming behind him. Emily, who stood at the other platform, cringed.

"What's it going to take to get you lot to stop that?" BoCo shouted back, in an attempt to be heard over them.

"Taking you off _our_ train for one thing!" a truck hissed rudely.

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I was asked to take this train, and that's what I'm going to do." To prove his point, he surged forward, causing the trucks to scream even louder.

"You reckless young diesels don't know how to treat us!" the front truck wheezed, "Back in our day, engines treated us with care! Isn't that right, Fred?" The other trucks looked back at the end of the train. The last truck before the brake van was faceless and so obviously silent.

"See, Fred agrees with us!" the front truck said after an awkward moment of silence. BoCo's annoyance turned to confusion.

"He… didn't say anything."

"Fred's a very talkative chap; you just don't hear him because your blasted engine is so loud!" BoCo scoffed to himself.

"Must be a senile lot… As if I didn't have enough problems…"

BoCo continued on his way, rolling through Kellsthorpe Road. He was just clearing the station when he smelled something.

"Do you smell smoke, driver?" Immediately, a chorus of giggles came from the trucks. BoCo scowled as he came to a stop, blocking the junction. "A hot box. Of course." The driver and guard hurried to sort the mess out. The trucks' giggles became more maniacal.

"It was Fred's idea! Fred's always been the creative one," a truck sneered. BoCo gritted his teeth.

"Right. That's it. Any more nonsense, and this trip to the scrapyard will be your last, do you understand? I'll leave you there to be cut up with the other old iron if you don't start behaving." The trucks fell silent for the first time that morning. BoCo smiled with relief. However, it didn't last for long, as a truck from the back of the train yelled out.

"You're right, Fred, they have no right to treat us like this. Why should we be scared of this green worm?" The other trucks loudly agreed. BoCo's face fell just as his driver returned.

"Well, the axle bearing has cooled down now. Come on, old boy, we better hurry before another train comes." BoCo was too cross about the trucks to reply. He moved off again, the screeching trucks rattling behind him.

* * *

As much as he didn't want to, BoCo made his way down the Main Line. The journey never seemed so long to him as it did then, as the trucks never let up, no matter what he did. At last, he approached Gordon's Hill. BoCo looked up the hill and took a deep breath.

"Nothing to worry about… Just get a good run at it, and they won't have time to hold you back. Just like Edward said," he told himself. The trucks glanced at each other.

"Did he say someth- AHH!" BoCo raced up the hill with a will, dragging the trucks with him. However, by the time he was midway to the top, they had caught on and started resisting.

"Hold back! Hold back!" they cackled. BoCo felt the weight of the train sag behind him, but he wasn't willing to give up.

"I've gotten this far, I'm not stopping now," he grunted. BoCo sped up, his engine roaring even louder than the trucks. Finally, he rolled over the top of the hill. "Huh, that wasn't quite as hard as I thought it'd be. Perhaps these old trucks have lost their pulling power." Of course, he spoke too soon. As the train started down the hill, the trucks pushed with all their might.

"What's the matter? Don't you young engines like going _fast_?" a truck taunted and the rest burst into laughter. BoCo's brakes screeched on. Sparks went flying as he desperately tried to slow down. The train rounded the bend at the bottom of the hill and surged towards Wellsworth. BoCo gasped in horror - at the station was a red signal!

"Stop pushing, you stupid trucks!" BoCo called back, putting his full weight against the train. Just as they pulled into the station, BoCo could feel himself slowing down. He breathed a sigh of relief as he came to a standstill just in front of the signal.

"Well, that was quite the entrance," Edward commented from the yard, "Are you alright, BoCo? You look exhausted." BoCo sighed.

"Oh, I am, Edward. These trucks are the worst I've ever had to work with, and that's saying a lot."

"Oh dear…"

"Yes, and nothing I've done has made them stop," BoCo continued, sounding more exasperated as he went on, "I've tried your way, I've tried mine. I've even shouted at them, but nothing makes a difference." Edward's eyes widened.

"You _shouted_ at them?" Realizing what he said, BoCo's face turned red.

"Er…"

"BoCo, trucks, even those ones you have there, don't deserve that sort of treatment. It'll only make them crosser. Have you tried being kind to them yet?"

"It's hard doing that when they hardly pay attention to what you say," BoCo muttered bitterly. Suddenly, a giggle came from near the back of the train.

"Good joke, Fred!" a truck smirked, looking back at the faceless truck behind him, "He really does look like that, doesn't he?" Edward raised an eyebrow at BoCo.

"Who's Fred?"

"Ugh, he's that one faceless truck at the back of the train. He doesn't talk, yet the others insist he does. I tell you, they've all gone senile."

"Oh…" Edward paused, trying to find some positivity in the situation. "At least your trip is almost over. Your stop is at the scrapyard, isn't it?" BoCo looked up as the signal dropped.

"Yes, and I can't get there soon enough." He honked his horn and hurried away. Edward glanced at the faceless truck as the train passed and frowned.

* * *

BoCo rolled through Suddery Junction and onto Edward's Branch Line, the last stretch of his journey. He was scanning the line ahead, hoping that the scrapyard would come into view, when a truck suddenly cried out in horror.

"Fred! Oh no, Fred's ill!" it wailed, "Stop the train!" BoCo rolled his eyes.

"I know you're just trying to delay me further. Now stow it, that truck is just fine."

"He's _Fred_ , you oversized tin can, and he's _not_ fine!" the truck fumed, "You just don't care about us!" The other trucks agreed and started making such a fuss that BoCo realized he had to do something.

"Alright, alright, be quiet, all of you. I'll see… what I can do." The trucks cheered as BoCo braked to a halt on the open line. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he grumbled to himself as he moved around the other trucks and to the back of the train. He pulled the brake van away and coupled up to the faceless truck.

"Come on, you," BoCo growled, trying to reverse but instead finding himself unable to move it. The driver scratched his head.

"Looks like the brakes have slipped on. I'll hop down and-" Before he could say another word, there was a loud splintering noise and BoCo suddenly jerked backwards. The other trucks watched in horror as "Fred's" floor gave way, spilling scrap and iron all over the rails below. The truck then collapsed, crumbling wood falling to the ground.

"FRED!" the trucks all shouted at once. BoCo wasn't quite sure what to make of what had just happened, until he saw the horrified looks on the trucks' faces and got an idea.

"That's right, you thought I wasn't being serious earlier, didn't you? Well, if any of you act up anymore, you'll get the same treatment as old Fred here," BoCo ordered, trying to sound as stern as possible. The trucks gasped and immediately shut up. The silence that followed was amazing. BoCo couldn't help but smile.

* * *

It took a while to clean up the mess, as the truck's remains and the scrap iron had to be put into the other trucks. BoCo didn't mind, however, as the trucks were silent the entire ordeal. At last, the track had been cleared, and BoCo was able to get moving again. He went as fast as he could to try and make up for lost time, and the trucks put up no resistance. It wasn't long before BoCo finally pulled into the scrapyard, tired but triumphant.

"Sorry I'm late, Reg. Have been nothing but delayed all day. Perhaps not the best first impression pulling this train but, er..." The yellow grappling crane turned around and smiled.

"No worries, mate. 'The Scrap' is always late, even when Donald and Douglas pull it. Those trucks are terrors." Reg paused, glancing at the trucks. "Speaking of, I've never seen them so quiet. What magic spell did you put on them, BoCo?" BoCo smirked.

"Let's just say they had a bit of an 'epiphany.'" Reg grabbed a piece of "Fred" with his crane arm and raised an eyebrow.

"Huh…" He looked to BoCo, who smiled sheepishly. Reg chuckled. "Splendid job, mate. Never thought I'd see the day when someone knocked some sense into them." BoCo grinned as Reg winked at him.

* * *

That evening, after finishing his jobs for the day, BoCo headed to the Steamworks. As he rolled up to the entrance, Victor spotted him.

"Hello, my friend! Why are you back so soon?"

"Just wanted to see how Donald and Douglas are getting on, Victor. Is it alright if I see them for a bit?" Victor smiled warmly.

"Of course. You should see them near the back." BoCo honked his horn and started inside.

"Thank you, Victor!" Upon entering, BoCo could see the twins being examined by some workmen, looking considerably less ill. "Looks like you two have made quite the recovery!"

"Aye, just a wee washout is all," Donald replied dismissively, "Victor says we'll be back tae work tomorrow."

"How did taking the 'The Scrap' go, laddie?" Douglas asked curiously.

"Both worse and better than I expected, if that makes any sense." The twins shared a glance.

"It doesn't," Donald said flatly. BoCo chuckled.

"To put it simply, the trucks gave me all sorts of trouble until I showed them what for." Douglas smirked.

"Ah knew ye could dae it. 'Tis a shame Donnie was sae skeptical." Donald looked at his buffers.

"Aye, I'll be honest, ah wasn't sure ye had the grit tae tak' that wretched train." He then smiled. "Glad tae see ah wis wrong. Sorry for doubting ye, lad."

"It's not a problem at all; they're really not so bad once you whip them into shape." Donald smirked at Douglas.

"In that case, dae ye want tae tak' it yerself from now on?"

"Oh, no thank you, Donald," BoCo said quickly, causing the twins to laugh. "However, I think you'll find the trucks may be much better behaved next week when you take it." On that ominous note, BoCo reversed out of the Steamworks. Donald raised an eyebrow at Douglas.

"What dae ye suppose he meant by that?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Wow, a new story already? Well, technically it's an adaptation since it's based off of a Christopher Awdry annual story, but still. Yes, the supporting character is BoCo, being upgraded to a lead all to himself after being in a supporting role back in _Spooky Shunting_. Adding more meat to the barebones plot of the original as well as putting in CGI Series elements such as the Steamworks and Reg was great. Also, the little twist I had of changing the very clearly alive truck in the original into a faceless one was done so the plot wouldn't be quite as dark, plus I felt it provided a bit more of foundation for the plot to work from. I also think this helps flesh out BoCo and the kind of personality I give him. Similar to Edward except his patience runs out much faster and tends to have snappier interactions. Fun fact: I tend to write BoCo with the voice George Carlin gave him, make of that what you will. Honestly, writing this has made me much more open about him returning in the show, or at least the idea of it: he really does have potential, he just needs to be used in the right way. Anyway, see you next time, which will star another diesel!


	11. Mavis' Day Out

**MAVIS' DAY OUT**

* * *

If you go beyond the top station of Thomas' Branch Line, you will find a small but bustling quarry, as well as a diesel shunter who works there. This is Mavis, who, around the clock, works hard to fill trucks with stone so the other engines can take them away. It can be a grueling task, and sometimes this takes a toll on Mavis. One day, Percy was traveling up the Quarry Tramroad to collect a train of stone. He rounded the bend into the quarry, whistling loudly.

"Good morning Mavis!" he called cheerfully, "Are my trucks ready?" To his surprise, he only got a disinterested sigh in reply. Percy rolled forward, noticing Mavis biffing some complaining trucks into a siding. "Mavis?" The diesel in question looked over.

"Oh. Hello, Percy. They're at the far end of the yard. Same as always," she sighed dully.

"Is something wrong, Mavis? Are those trucks giving trouble? A good bump usually-"

"No, Percy, it's not the trucks," Mavis interrupted, "I just… I'm sick of doing the same thing all the time. Always arranging the exact same trucks in the exact same places so the exact same engines can go and take them who knows where. The rest of you have some variety. Meanwhile, I'm just stuck here staring at rock all day." Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Is that all? I, for one, wouldn't mind working in the same place for once." Mavis snorted.

"Of course _you_ would, but trust me, it gets old fast. I just want to see the world for a change." To Mavis' dismay, Percy started to snicker. She scowled and looked away. "Oh, why would I think you'd understand…"

"It's not that," Percy cut in quickly, "It's just, apparently, when Thomas first came to the island, he said the exact same thing, or so Edward told me."

"He did?"

"I'm surprised he hasn't told you, but yes. He would keep everyone up all night talking about 'seeing the world' and whatnot." Mavis considered what Percy said for a moment as the little engine backed down onto his trucks.

"But he eventually did, didn't he? He runs this branch line now."

"I suppose so. Some dreams do come true, after all." Percy whistled and started rolling away. "See you later, Mavis!" he called as he left the quarry, "Hope you feel better!" Mavis didn't reply; she was too busy thinking.

* * *

Later that day, Toby pulled into Ffarquhar, grumbling to himself.

"Young engines these days…" Percy, who was at the other platform, looked at him curiously.

"Something wrong, Toby?" Toby sighed, exasperated.

"Every time I've been up to the quarry today, Mavis has done nothing but talk about some senseless dream of travelling. I couldn't even get a word in!"

"No need to be so harsh on her, Toby," Henrietta soothed, "I recall a certain tram engine once wanting to see the main line once transferred to his tramway!" Toby blushed in embarrassment.

"W-Well, I got over it, Henrietta. _She_ hasn't, and it's going to get her into trouble one of these days. I just know it. Although, it might not have been so bad if _someone_ hadn't gotten her hopes up." Toby glared at Percy, who groaned.

"All I said was that some dreams come true! I didn't expect something like this to happen! Besides, what's the harm in it?"

"The _harm_ , Percy, is she doesn't understand that some engines are simply destined to stay in one place. It might not be fair, but it's the state of the world, whether we like it or not." Percy was about to reply, when Thomas puffed into the station with some trucks, looking very confused.

"What are you two talking about?"

"So I take it you haven't been to the quarry then?" Toby inquired. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"Not yet, but I'm heading up there right now. Why?"

"Good luck then. Mavis is tired of working there, despite that being her job, and now took some inspiration from you and wants to 'see the world,' or some nonsense." Thomas smirked.

"Inspiration from me? How flattering."

"It's not flattering, Thomas," Toby spluttered, "She-"

"Oh, relax, Toby. It can't be _that_ bad - after all, the others managed to put with me back in the day."

"And still do!" put in Percy brightly. Thomas shot him a glare.

"Anyway," he continued, significantly less enthusiastically, "If she really is that much of a nuisance, I'll put a stop to it." Toby and Percy shared a look.

"Will you? How?" Toby asked with some hesitation.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." Thomas whistled and rolled away towards the quarry in a huff. Toby glanced at Percy.

"I don't know what he means by that, but I'm not sure I like it."

* * *

Thomas' mood improved by the time he arrived at the quarry. As he passed through the entrance, he was still thinking about what Toby had said.

"Toby always gets dramatic about Mavis…" he mused to himself, "I'm sure it's not-" He broke off as from within the quarry, he could hear a voice talking excitedly. He rolled closer, spotting Mavis talking to some disinterested trucks.

"And where are you all off to today?" Mavis asked with a broad grin.

"We head everywhere and anywhere, mate," a truck snapped rudely, "What do you care?"

"Because you have such freedom! You can go all across the island if you want to, like Vicarstown! I wish I could see Vicarstown…" The truck snickered.

"Get a load of this, lads! Little ol' Mavis wants to be an explorer! Isn't that adorable?" The line of trucks cackled. Mavis sighed and sadly rolled away to shunt some other trucks.

"Just you all wait…" she grumbled to herself, "I'll do it… After all, if Thomas can earn a branch line, then I can go to Vicarstown."

"Toby was certainly telling the truth…" Thomas muttered and whistled to get Mavis' attention. Mavis jumped.

"O-Oh, Thomas! I didn't see you there! Hold on a moment, I'll take those away for you!" Thomas rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"It's alright, Mavis, I can do it myself. I have some time before my next train down to Knapford." Mavis gasped.

"Knapford? Goodness, I don't think I've ever been there either! Only to the harbour every now and then." Mavis' face fell, her excitement vanishing. Thomas thought for a moment.

"How about you take it? I know it's not as far as Vicarstown but-"

"Really, Thomas? You'd let me do that? Thank you, thank you!" Mavis gushed excitedly. She immediately started rolling away to fetch the trucks when she braked suddenly. "Oh, but there's so much to do here! Who will shunt the trucks while I'm gone?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Thomas replied dismissively, "I can look after the quarry for you. I have experience," he added with a smirk. Mavis grinned.

"Perfect! Thanks again, Thomas! I won't let you down!" She honked her horn and hurried out of the quarry. Thomas glanced at the trucks, who were already looking mischievously at him, and almost immediately started regretting his plan.

* * *

Down at Ffarquhar, Toby had turned around and was preparing to head back down the line. Henrietta could sense Toby still feeling bad-tempered.

"It'll pass eventually, Toby, you know that. Working yourself up over nothing won't help. We just need to…" Henrietta broke off, noticing a familiar diesel engine coming towards the station. "Is that Mavis?" Toby looked over in surprise as Mavis sidled up alongside him, beaming eagerly.

"M-Mavis? What are you doing here?"

"Thomas is letting me take his train down to Knapford for him! _Knapford!_ Isn't that exciting?" Toby was too stunned to say much of anything. Henrietta chuckled.

"Yes, very exciting, Mavis! Isn't that right, Toby?" Toby grimaced.

"I…"

"Oh, that must be it there!" Mavis exclaimed, spotting a waiting goods train in the yard. "See you later, Toby! I'm off to see the world!" Toby stared in bewilderment as Mavis went over to her trucks. Henrietta couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, would you look at that! How nice of Thomas, letting the dear look around a little. She's a part of this branch line too, she may as well get to see it more often. Don't you think, Toby?" she teased. Toby groaned.

* * *

Soon, Mavis was heading on her way down the branch line. She had hardly ever gone past Ffarquhar before, and was marveling at all the new sights. Instead of the usual grey rock, green countryside surrounded the line as far as the eye could see. Mavis gasped in amazement as some birds flew by overheard.

"Wow! This is incredible! The other engines pass by this every day? I should swap jobs more often!" She was so busy soaking in the landscape that she wasn't keeping a good lookout.

"Hey, stop! Stop!" Mavis snapped from her trance and looked around. Her eyes snapped to a red signal just up ahead.

"Oh no!" Mavis applied her brakes and screeched to a halt, just shy of passing the signal. She sighed with relief.

"That was a close call if I've ever seen one." Mavis' eyes snapped to an orange tractor trundling up to her. "Be more careful next time, will you?" Mavis smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. I was just sightseeing! It's beautiful around here!" Terence glanced around his field.

"Looks the same as it always does to me. Say, you're Mavis, aren't you? The others have said all sorts of things about you." Mavis wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Yes, I am," she said uncertainly, "and you are?"

"Terence. I plough this field, but really, I can go anywhere." Mavis gasped in amazement. "But enough about me. You work down at the quarry, don't you?"

"Yes, but today I just wanted something different. See some new scenery for a is taking care of things while I'm gone." Terence chuckled.

"Thomas is, eh? He ran that quarry before you and Toby came! I remember when he told me all about his first day there. Didn't have a clue what he was doing! Misplacing trucks, tipping them over, it was a disaster! I'm surprised you let him back there!" Terence laughed, but Mavis clearly looked troubled. The signal dropped and Mavis honked her horn.

"Er… sorry, Terence, but really must be off. Have to keep to time, you know. Nice talking with you!" She rolled away as quickly as her wheels could carry her. Terence watched her leave with concern.

"Huh. She seems a bit wound up. Was it something I said?"

* * *

Mavis continued down the line, now significantly more nervous as Terence's words rang in her head.

"That was a long time ago," she mumbled, "He must have learned better by now… right? Though there are a lot of points, he could easily have an accident…" She breathed in and out to steady her nerves. "But he won't, I'm sure of it." However, she didn't sound quite as confident as she sounded. Mavis tried looking to her new environment for some solace. Needless to say, it didn't provide any. Beside the line, some woodsmen were cutting down trees that were too close to the track. As Mavis passed them, one particularly large tree was finally tipping over.

"Timber!" a woodsman shouted. They all cheered as the tree fell to the ground with a loud thump. Mavis gulped.

"What if he tips the trucks over again? Rock would be all over the line, it would take forever to clear, and everything would grind to a halt! I'd have to make up for lost time, everyone would be cross with me…" Still fretting, she approached a level crossing and came to a stop. Bertie was cheerily crossing the tracks, honking his horn at Mavis when he heard two familiar horns.

"Oh no…" he groaned. Mavis watched as Max and Monty, their dumpers filled to the brim with earth, raced through the crossing, swerving around Bertie. Bertie gasped and scowled.

"Watch out, you two! Something's going to fall off if you keep that up!" Max snorted.

"We don't tell you how to do your job, don't tell us how to do ours!" he called back. He and Monty laughed even harder as they disappeared out of sight. Bertie scoffed.

"Reckless dump trucks…" he muttered and drove away. Mavis, who had seen the entire thing, started panicking again.

"Thomas likes to race around… What if he goes so fast all the stone falls out?" The crossing gates opened and Mavis passed through. Mavis rolled in anxious silence until she pulled into Dryaw, where Percy was being berated by the stationmaster.

"Twenty minutes late! What could possibly have kept you held up for so long?"

"M-Mr. stationmaster, sir, the boat at the harbour was late," Percy stammered, "Honest! You can ask anyone there!"

"Rubbish! The Fat Controller will hear of this, make no mistake!" Percy was so upset that he didn't notice Mavis passing by. Mavis winced.

"Poor Percy… Oh no! What if Thomas is late with the stone, a-and we'll both get into trouble!" The further Mavis got from the quarry, the more she couldn't shake the thought that something at the quarry was going to go wrong without her being there.

* * *

It wasn't long before, at last, Mavis had reached the junction. She was very relieved as the station came into view.

"Finally! Thank goodness; I almost thought we'd never get here! Now, I'll just drop these off and-" A loud whistle cut her off. Mavis gasped and screeched to a halt, barely missing Henry rumbling past with a heavy goods train.

"Wait for your signal, you silly engine!" Henry called back, glaring. Mavis frowned.

"Signal?" She looked up at the signal gantry looming above her and groaned. "Fiddlesticks! Signals _again!_ Ugh, I won't miss these wretched things when I head back to the quarry!" She reversed from the points and glared at her signal. "Come on, come on! Change already!" The signal dropped and Mavis, exasperated, raced through the junction and into the station. James, who was waiting to depart with a local train, looked at her curiously.

"Mavis? Is that you? I thought you were a quarry diesel." Mavis sighed as she came to a stop at the platform.

"Hello to you too, James," she huffed, trying to make it clear that she was stressed. James, of course, took a different interpretation of it.

"Temper, temper!" he snickered, "What, were the workmen at the quarry so fed up with your attitude they sent you away? That's rich!" Mavis growled.

"Coming from you, it is. I came here of my own accord, James. Thomas and I swapped jobs."

"So _Thomas_ is running the quarry?" James started to laugh. "That's even funnier! Last time he worked there, he went rogue and nearly crashed through the buffers!" Mavis winced, remembering this and started to worry about what would happen if Thomas actually _did_ crash through some buffers. James kept going. "Maybe this time he'll be even worse! Like he'll be too busy racing Bertie again!" Mavis gulped as she imagined Thomas shunting some trucks, until hearing Bertie's horn and immediately running off to find him. James' laughter brought Mavis out of her thoughts. "Who knows? Maybe he's-"

"Don't say it, don't say it!" Mavis honked her horn as she was uncoupled from her trucks. "I _have_ to get back NOW!" She rolled to a set of points and reversed back down the parallel line. James was still too busy laughing to notice her leave. Mavis scurried through the junction, cutting off Emily and her coaches. Emily braked to a halt, just in time.

"M-Mavis?!"

"Can't talk, Emily!" Mavis called, practically in hysterics, "I have to check on the quarry!" Emily winced.

"Be sure to take on fuel then! It's a long way back!" But Mavis was too far away to hear, not that she would've cared anyway. Emily, realizing this, sighed and rolled into the station. She noticed James, who was laughing fit to burst by this point, and cleared her throat crossly. James stopped and raised an eyebrow at her.

"What?"

* * *

Mavis hurried back up the branch line as quickly as she could, her face bright red and panting.

"I have to get back! I have to! The quarry could've exploded by now!" Mavis' teeth chattered as she imagined Thomas accidentally slamming some gunpowder wagons into some buffers, blowing the entire quarry up. This new burst of panic made her speed up even more. However, hurrying used a lot of fuel, and it wasn't long before Mavis was starting to run out. Her wheels turned slower and slower. Mavis gasped.

"What? No, no, no! I can't run out! Not now!" Despite her protests, her fuel tank ran dry, and she eventually came to a complete stop on the open line. Mavis groaned miserably. "What have I done…" She looked at the ground in despair, feeling like crying. Suddenly, the familiar sound of caterpillar tracks filled the air.

"Could that be…? No, it couldn't… could it?" To Mavis' shock, Terence trundled up alongside her on the lane beside the line.

"Hello, Mavis! Fancy seeing you again so soon! Taking a break, are we?" Mavis sighed.

"No… I forgot to refuel at Knapford, and now I'm stuck here. Please, can you get help?" she pleaded. Terence smiled.

"Of course! I'm headed up to Ffarquhar anyway." Terence very slowly started rolling away. Mavis grimaced.

"Can you go any faster?"

"Sorry, Mavis; this is as fast as I can go." Terence smirked. "Ah well, at least you have a proper chance to take in the scenery now, eh?" Mavis scowled as Terence continued down the lane to the quarry, chuckling to himself.

* * *

Up at Ffarquhar, Toby was still waiting with Henrietta to leave. By this time, he was very late, and both he and the passengers were growing impatient.

"Why haven't we left yet?" Toby grumbled, "We were supposed to leave ages ago."

"Easy, Toby," Henrietta said gently, "It's only been about twenty minutes or so." Toby rolled his eyes.

"You almost make that sound reasonable…"

"It is reasonable, Toby. The signalman said there was a line blockage further down." Toby raised an eyebrow.

"What line blockage?" Suddenly, Toby heard a distant noise that became louder and louder as it got closer. Toby narrowed his eyes; in the distance, he could see Terence, coming towards the station on the road.

"Terence…?" Slowly, Terence rolled up to Toby and Henrietta, looking exhausted.

"Toby, you need to go and rescue Mavis," Terence panted, "She's stranded on the other side of the line, just near the junction." Toby gaped and grit his teeth. He was uncoupled from Henrietta, and, with a ring of his bell, puffed away to the rescue. Terence glanced at Henrietta.

"Don't ask," Henrietta muttered.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mavis sat alone on the open line, every minute of waiting feeling like an eternity. She had even grown resentful of the countryside around her. She did her best to keep her eyes on the track so as not to look at it. Mavis was beginning to feel like she'd never be able to go back when a familiar bell rang. Her face lit up instantly.

"Toby?!" To her delight, Toby rounded the bend. "You came! You really came! I was starting to think you would all just leave me here!" Despite still feeling cross, Toby couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Ah well, can't leave you here blocking the line all day. Other trains must get through, you know." Mavis sighed with shame.

"I'm sorry… for everything. Not only have I delayed you, but I've also ruined the quarry…" Toby raised an eyebrow.

"Ruined? Why would it be ruined?" Mavis was surprised by Toby's confusion.

"You mean the quarry hasn't become a crater in the ground due to a gunpowder explosion?" Toby stared at Mavis like she had two heads.

"...no?"

"Has it fallen so far behind schedule I'll spend days catching-"

"Mavis, please, settle down. The quarry's doing just fine. Thomas has been managing it quite well." Toby frowned. "If you were concerned this much about the quarry, why did you leave?" Mavis groaned.

"Because I just wanted to be like the rest of you. You all don't stay in the same place every day, you move and even see new locations through getting new jobs every now and then. But… the quarry is where I belong. I know exactly how to run it and how I like running it. If I were to leave, well, I wouldn't be able to enjoy it." Toby was stunned.

"Very mature, Mavis. I admit, I'm surprised." He chuckled. "You really don't trust Thomas, though, do you?" Mavis smiled.

"Perhaps I don't. But then, can you blame me?" Toby burst into laughter.

"I suppose I can't!" Toby's driver coupled him up to Mavis and the tram engine started reversing back to the quarry, both of them laughing.

* * *

When Toby and Mavis reached the quarry, Toby shunted her to the refueling station, and it wasn't long before her tank was being refilled. Mavis was very relieved to see that indeed, the quarry was still standing. Lines of trucks filled the sidings, among them a smirking Thomas.

"Hello, you two! You took a while in getting back." Toby glared at Thomas, but Mavis spoke first.

"Just got a bit held up, that's all. You can go on back to your normal duties now, Thomas; I need to get back to work." Thomas chuckled.

"Of course! I'll just be off and-"

"Wait a minute!" Thomas froze as Mavis narrowed her eyes at him. "What have you done with the trucks? The train to Knapford Harbour is supposed to go on that siding, not that one!" Thomas grimaced.

"I, um…"

"And the trucks for Vicarstown are supposed to be near the back, not the front!" Mavis continued sharply, "Goodness, it'll take me all evening to get this looking right!" She honked her horn and raced into the yard to start rearranging things her way. Thomas chuckled to himself as Toby rolled alongside.

"Thomas, did you actually plan all of this out? Even her running out of fuel?" he asked.

"Well, not the last part; that was just lucky. You see, when I first came to Sodor, Edward and I swapped jobs so I could get out of the yard. I almost crashed after losing control of my trucks, and for a couple of weeks, I was much quieter in the shed. So I thought, perhaps, it could work again with a bit of adaptation."

"Alright, I'll admit, that's clever," Toby conceded, "but just don't do it again. My train got delayed because of you, you know." Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Oh, hush. It worked out in the end, didn't it?" Toby and Thomas watched as Mavis marshaled trucks about the yard, looking a lot more cheerful than that morning. Toby cracked a smile.

"Yes, I suppose it did." Mavis is more content with her work now. Of course, the repetitive nature of her job can still be taxing, but she knows that out of all the engines, she'd rather herself be the one doing it.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Yes, as subtly hinted at last time, the star of this story is Mavis! Mavis isn't really known for having stellar story potential, and I kind've agree with that. She's one of those characters that exists to be a supporting character rather than a lead, like Salty or Stafford. Nonetheless, I tried taking a crack at giving her a story of her own, and I think I did alright. Granted, the idea of Mavis wanting to see more of the island isn't new by any means, it was shown in her debut as well as _Thomas the Quarry Engine_ (which there was a fun reference to in here). However, I think I managed to make it unique as her enthusiasm is taken to the next level, as well as the addition of paranoia about the quarry falling into ruin if she's not there. Implementing other characters like Terence and Henrietta made this story a fun one to write, as they tend to slip under my radar. Something I should bring up is while I was expecting to make this take place in the present like the rest of my stories, but thinking about it, this makes more sense around the time of Season 7 (would make it Season 6 if not for Emily's brief appearance), so just think of it around that time and it might make more sense. Now, as for next time? I'm not really sure, to be honest. Makes it a bit surprise, though, doesn't it? In the meantime, hope you had fun reading this!


	12. A Damper on Duncan

**A DAMPER ON DUNCAN**

* * *

It had been raining hard for several days. Despite the bad weather, the engines on the narrow gauge railway were doing their best to keep their spirits up. Well, most of them anyway.

"Why does the Thin Controller insist on making me go out there?" Duncan grumbled, looking out into the pouring rain with a deep scowl, "Cannae go one wheel turn outside without getting pelted by the rotten rain, but I'm still expected to pull all the weight. It's nae fair." The other engines in the shed started to groan, having heard this all too often since the rain started.

"What's so bad about working in the rain, Duncan?" Peter Sam asked from beside him, "I quite like it myself. Cleans my paint for me!" Duncan scoffed.

"Bah. Maybe if ye're lucky, or tae wind ruins it again by blowing dirt all over ye." Peter Sam sighed, already growing annoyed.

"Why don't you try and see the bright side of things, just for once, Duncan?" Duncan glared.

"There's no 'bright side' to anything. I get no rest, these clouds won't go away, the rain stings my face, and none of you lot care at all. Find tae bright side in _that_." Before Peter Sam could try, Duncan harrumphed and looked away. His crew walked up to the shed, each holding a large umbrella above their heads. Upon seeing them climb into his cab, Duncan immediately shut his eyes to pretend to be asleep.

"I know you're awake, Duncan. Whether you like it or not, you're going out today," his driver said sternly. Duncan tried his best to feign a yawn.

"I can't," he muttered, "Too tired. Get Peter Sam to do it; he loves extra jobs _and_ working in tae rain. Would be perfect for him." Peter Sam spluttered, but the driver spoke for him.

"Peter Sam has his own work to do, Duncan, and we have ours." Duncan grimaced, refusing to move. The driver was losing patience. "Duncan, if you don't come out right now, I'll have the Thin Controller leave you sitting out in the rain all day. How about that?" Upon this dreadful threat, Duncan wisely stopped talking and quickly rolled out of the shed. Peter Sam watched him leave, exasperated.

"What has gotten into him? It isn't something we did, is it?" Rusty sighed.

"No, Peter Sam, Duncan just feels storms like this give him a good reason to complain. I wouldn't waste your steam trying to make him feel better. He's too stubborn to listen." Peter Sam could only agree as in the distance, he could hear Duncan already starting to grumble again.

* * *

"Stupid Peter Sam… Stupid Thin Controller… It's nae fair…" Duncan muttered under his breath. He pulled into Crovan's Gate, looking around for the train he was due to pull. His eyes landed on a long line of coal trucks sitting at the platform. "Where's my train?"

"This _is_ your train, Duncan," the driver replied, holding back a laugh, "We need to take all of this coal to each station to light their fireplaces." Before Duncan could reply, a voice cut in.

"Wow! I heard you little engines were small, but I didn't think you were _that_ small!" Duncan looked over to see a large, yellow tender engine sitting on the standard gauge track. The engine smiled eagerly at Duncan, immediately putting him off. Behind the engine was a line of empty trucks.

"Who are you?" Duncan demanded bluntly. The engine's smile only widened.

"I'm Rebecca! Pleased to meet you! I brought all this coal for you! What a wonderful job you have; helping so many people stay warm. You must be proud!" Duncan's eye twitched.

"No." Rebecca looked puzzled.

"Oh… why? What's wrong?"

" _Everything's_ wrong!" Duncan burst out angrily, catching Rebecca by surprise, "Coal is one of the worst things ye can pull! It's dusty, it's heavy, and if some of it falls out, everyone blames _you_ for it! As if it's my fault that Rusty didn't mend the track properly! What am I supposed to do about it?" Duncan continued his rant, Rebecca trying her best to listen. Nonetheless, she quickly grew uncomfortable, and began absentmindedly looking around. Her eyes drifted to the station clock and she gasped.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late with my express! Sorry little engine, you can tell me your name later! I have to go!" Rebecca hurried out of the station, though Duncan was too busy complaining to realize this.

"And top it _all_ off, Rusty gets off scot-free, and I-" Duncan broke off, realizing that Rebecca had gone. Duncan's scowl returned. "Of course."

"If you're done, Duncan, we have coal to deliver," the driver called. Duncan gritted his teeth as he reversed onto his train. He whistled and started rolling away.

* * *

Duncan made his way up the line, his grumbling becoming as fierce as the rain pouring down on him.

"Silly big engines, think they're too important for me. Pah, what would they know anyway? Nothing, that's what…" He was so cross that he started doing his "rock 'n' roll." The coal shook violently in the trucks as Duncan bounced and swaggered along. The driver had to grip the side of the cab to keep himself balanced.

"Steady, Duncan, steady!" he called out the window, "Now's not the time for this!" Duncan glared back.

"Why does everyone blame me for everything? It's hardly _my_ fault! It's these rails; they're still bumpy, and now they're slippery too! This wouldn't happen if tae sun was still out!"

"I feel like it would…" the driver muttered before speaking up. "Even so, you have sandboxes for a reason, Duncan, use them!" Duncan rolled his eyes and reluctantly did so. However, instead of the sand trickling in front of Duncan's wheels like it was supposed to, it all came down in one large heap. Duncan's wheels rolled over the pile of sand, putting him off balance and jerking him about.

"I told you to stop that, Duncan!" the driver exclaimed. Duncan snorted in defiance.

"It wasn't me! There was something on the rails; probably a branch that dratted Rusty didn't pick up." The driver was unsure, but decided not to press the matter as the train continued down the line.

* * *

Duncan rounded a bend and approached Cros-nu-Curin. His wheels slipped on the wet rails as he jerkily came to a halt at the platform.

"Oh dear, that didn't look very safe." To Duncan's dismay, he saw Luke on the siding by the station with a train of stone. Duncan grunted.

"Bah. What are ye doing here?"

"I'm bringing stone down from the quarry to anyone who needs it! The station roof here is leaky!" Luke smiled cheerily. Duncan wasn't impressed.

"A roof full of holes wouldn't matter if it was sunny…" he muttered bitterly.

"I don't think I'd much like the sun in my eyes," Luke remarked earnestly, "All the same, you should be careful out there, Duncan. It's easy to slide on these wet rails. I learned that the hard way." Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"What, did ye have an accident?"

"No, I slid into a siding and rammed into the buffers. It _really_ hurt!" Duncan rolled his eyes.

"Dinnae tell me how to handle _my_ trains, Luke. All ye do is hide in those tunnels, ye probably haven't seen a raindrop in yer life before." Duncan whistled and began rolling away again, leaving behind one of the trucks. Luke winced as Duncan passed.

"I was just trying to help…" But Duncan ignored him as he disappeared out of sight. Luke sighed sadly.

* * *

Due to Duncan's temper and the heavy rain, the job was taking longer than it should have. He crawled up the line practically at a snail's pace as he made his way to the next station. Duncan grimaced as water from the leaves above fell down and splashed on him.

"Wretched stuff. Why can't it stay in my tank where it belongs?" Up ahead, the line sloped downward before sharply curving and continuing on, but Duncan was so busy grumbling that he didn't realize this. As Duncan started rolling down the slope, he felt the heavy coal trucks pushing against him.

"Whoa! What's happening?" Duncan exclaimed, caught off guard as he started picking up speed. He tried braking to slow down, but his wheels wouldn't grip on the slippery rails. Duncan's eyes widened. "Uh oh." The bend was approaching fast, and Duncan was starting to panic. He frantically tried putting sand on the rails, but nothing happened. The driver was anxious.

"Slow down or we'll come off!" he cried through the pouring rain.

"I'm trying, but I have nae sand left!" Duncan called back.

"What?!"

"Did ye not just hear me, ye-" Before Duncan could come up with some sort of insult, his wheels slid off the rails, making him tip onto his side and skid down the bank into a muddy marsh. Mud splattered everywhere. To make matters worse, the trucks followed, piling up behind, their contents flying all over Duncan. Duncan groaned as the dust settled.

"As if things couldn't get any worse…" he muttered. His crew and guard had been relatively unhurt, having jumped out before Duncan toppled over. Duncan winced as his driver stomped up to him, his suit sopping wet.

"What were you thinking about, Duncan? Thanks to your carelessness, we're all stuck here in the storm! How could possibly not have any sand? We filled up last night!"

"How should I know?" Duncan snapped defensively, "It's not like it's my job to-" Duncan got cut off by a loud whistle. Everyone looked to see a surprised Luke rolling alongside the scene of the accident.

"...I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" The driver sighed with relief.

"Oh, Luke, thank goodness. Please, can you take us back to Crovan's Gate? Duncan here's come off the rails, and we'll need the cranes to get this cleared up."

"Of course!" Luke smiled, "Hop aboard, sir!" Duncan's crew and guard climbed into the brake van. Luke whistled and started rolling away. "Never mind, Duncan! I'll get help as soon as I can!" Duncan rolled his eyes.

"Sure, take yer time!" he called sarcastically, "Not like I've anything better to do…"

"Oh, okay! Thanks for letting me know, Duncan, that takes a lot of pressure off my boiler!" Luke called back. Duncan spluttered in shock that Luke took him seriously, but could do nothing but sit and wait as the little engine puffed out of sight.

* * *

Luke, quickly but cautiously, made his way along the line to Crovan's Gate. However, he hadn't gone very far when he could barely make out something on the rails ahead.

"What is that?" he wondered aloud and started braking. Luke's driver poked his head out the cab window.

"Luke? Why are we stopping?" Luke didn't answer as he came to a halt and let out a sigh of relief. With the light from his lamp, he was able to clearly see what the object was. He looked down and gasped.

"A pile of sand? How did that get there?" he asked, bewildered. The driver was puzzled too.

"Search me, but it looks safe to roll over it. Might be a bit bumpy, though." Cautiously, Luke whistled and started again, carefully rolling over the pile of sand and continuing on. Little did he know, Duncan's driver had overheard him in the brake van.

"How indeed..." he muttered crossly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Duncan had been sitting in the marsh for a long time, and was growing very uncomfortable. His side facing the sky was being hammered with rain, and his other side was deep in the mud. Duncan groaned miserably.

"I'd like tae see Peter Sam defend rain now…" Suddenly, Duncan heard two whistles. He looked up and was surprised to see Luke again, along with Peter Sam pulling the breakdown train. Peter Sam looked surprised at the accident.

"Oh dear… You don't have the best of luck, do you, Duncan?" Duncan gnashed his teeth, and was about to berate him when Luke cut him off.

"Say, Duncan, if you don't mind me asking, do you know anything about that pile of sand just down the line?" Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"Sand? What are ye talking about?"

" _Your_ sand that _you_ carelessly dropped!" Duncan spluttered as his driver hopped from the brake van and stormed up to him.

" _Me?_ What did I do?"

"You damaged and eventually punctured your sandboxes with your silly 'rock 'n' roll'!" the driver fumed, "All your sand leaked out, so you couldn't stop! All because you were such a crosspatch!" Duncan was stunned into silence as the cranes started clearing up the mess. The unhurt trucks were dragged back onto the rails, and once the coal was recovered, Luke took the train away. Duncan had to sit and wait even longer, until at last, he was maneuvered back onto his wheels and the cranes were able to lift him out of the mud. Duncan was relieved, but glared at Peter Sam as the green engine started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he snapped.

"Half of you is perfectly clean, while the other is completely muddy! You did sit in the rain all day!" Duncan glanced back at each side of himself and turned red in embarrassment.

"Shut up! It's not like I wanted to!"

"That's not the rain's fault, is it?" Peter Sam laughed as Duncan growled under his breath. The cranes lowered Duncan onto a flatbed that Peter Sam had brought. Peter Sam whistled and started rolling away with Duncan, leaving the cranes to clear what was left.

* * *

As Peter Sam pushed Duncan to the Steamworks, Peter Sam spoke up.

"When Luke raised the alarm, The Thin Controller told me he's going to be waiting for you at the Steamworks to pay you a visit. I imagine it won't be that friendly, though." Duncan groaned.

"Great. Just what I need…" The two were silent for a while as the pouring rain had calmed to a light drizzle. Peter Sam grinned.

"Ah well. At least there's a silver lining to all this." Duncan didn't look interested to hear more, but Peter Sam continued regardless. Driver says the rain is supposed to stop tonight, and it'll be sunny all day tomorrow." For the first time that day, Duncan smiled.

"Aye, about time." But Peter Sam wasn't done.

"Although, I suppose you won't be able to see it, what with you being inside for repairs and all… and driver did also mention another storm's on the way the day after tomorrow." Duncan's smile immediately slid off his face as he blinked repeatedly in shock.

"...ye cannae be serious."

"Oh, I am! Never mind, Duncan; I'm sure you'll be 'right as rain' when you get back!" Peter Sam burst into laughter as Duncan immediately erupted into furious grumbling again, and continued to grumble all the way to the Steamworks.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Surprise, it's a narrow gauge story! Wasn't really expecting that myself either, but a month ago it was raining a lot where I lived, so I wondered if I could make a story from that. I also wanted to write Duncan, and the pieces clicked from there. A rather simple story this time around, but I kind've like it. Featuring Duncan was fun since he didn't have much of a role in previous stories, and Luke and Peter Sam just felt natural in their inclusion. Also, yes, Rebecca does pop up in this; figured it made sense, plus it lets me address that whole can of worms. I will be using her in future stories, but I wouldn't really call her a "main character" in my universe. I'm not sure of her shed situation either, she may pop up at Tidmouth anyway since in my canon, the shed allocations aren't really set in stone like they are in the show. That could be good, could be bad, I don't know, that in of itself might change in the future. As for Nia, as of now, it's sort of the opposite. I don't really have any ideas as to how she could fit in, though could be subject to change. In terms of the next story, I once again have no clue. Guess we'll have to wait and see on that, eh?


	13. The Teleporting Engine

**THE TELEPORTING ENGINE**

* * *

Sidney is a blue diesel shunter, who has a tendency to forget what he's told. As one would expect, this tends to get him into trouble. One day, Sidney had been told to collect some trucks from the shunting, but he had forgotten which siding it was on. As a result, he wandered the shunting yard in his search, calling out every so often.

"Hello? Trucks? Are you there?" he called and waited for a reply, only to get baffled looks from the filled sidings around him. Sidney sighed and rolled alongside yet another rake of trucks.

"Are _you_ my trucks?" he asked hopefully to them. The trucks started snickering, one of them blowing a raspberry at Sidney. Sidney groaned. "Oh, I'll never find them…"

"Find what, Sidney?" Sidney looked up as Percy rolled curiously alongside.

"Oh, Percy, thank goodness! Can you help me? I can't find my trucks; I keep asking if they're mine, but they won't say!" Percy glanced at the trucks, who were now holding back laughter. Percy narrowed his eyes.

"I think I know where they are."

"You do? Where?" Instead of replying, Percy reversed to the points and rolled forward, bumping into the trucks.

"Ow! Watch it, caterpillar! We're _waiting for our engine to take us to Wellsworth!_ " the truck closest to Percy huffed, quickly bursting into laughter. Percy glared and jerked backward, causing the trucks to cry out in surprise.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" a truck grumbled, "You're not our engine, though you look more like a bug anyway- OW!" Percy bumped the trucks hard and growled.

"I'm not, but _he_ is." Percy pushed the grumbling trucks into the back of Sidney. The diesel, who had become distracted by a passing butterfly, looked back in surprise.

"Percy? What are you doing?"

"I found your trucks! Troublesome things, they were hiding in plain sight." Sidney frowned.

"My what?"

"Your trucks, Sidney."

"Oh! Thanks, Percy! Off I go!" Sidney started to leave when he suddenly braked. "Wait, where am I going?"

"Wellsworth, Sidney." Sidney smiled.

"Oh, okay!" The blue diesel honked his horn and cheerfully rolled away, singing to himself.

"Ha ha ha, he he he, a very special job for me…" Sidney's song faded as he disappeared around a bend. As he departed, Thomas pulled in from the other direction, raising an eyebrow as he passed Sidney and stopped beside Percy.

"You're quite patient with him," he remarked. Percy chuckled.

"Someone has to be."

* * *

"...all the way to Wellsworth to… um… What rhymes with Wellsworth?" As Sidney rolled into Knapford, he was having trouble on how to complete his song. "Ha ha ha, he he he-"

"If ye dinnae mind, could ye sing a wee bit quieter? Some of us prefer our peace and quiet." Sidney immediately stopped and looked to the other side of the station; he saw a medium-sized black tender engine with a yellow number nine painted on their tender. A nameplate was proudly displayed on the unfamiliar engine's smokebox, though Sidney couldn't make out what it said. More importantly, the engine looked mildly annoyed.

"Oh… sorry." He continued onward, trying his best to keep his voice down. "Ha ha ha, he he he…" Donald rolled his eyes as Sidney rolled out of the station and onto the open line.

* * *

Unfortunately for Sidney, his encounter with Donald had made him forget about his song and, as a result, where exactly he was supposed to be going. He rolled aimlessly down the line, approaching Crosby. He slowed down and tried to read the station sign to see if something clicked.

"...Crosby? That doesn't sound right…" he muttered, "Maybe it's the next one." He sped up again, not slowing down until he approached Wellsworth. He was about to check the station sign when a deep-toned whistle startled him. Sidney raised an eyebrow as a black tender engine with a number ten on his tender pulled into the station with some coaches, letting off steam and smiling at him.

"Hello, laddie. Ye're Sidney, aren't ye?" Sidney looked intently at Douglas, making him a little uncomfortable.

"Er… ye alright, lad?" Sidney narrowed his eyes.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before…?" Douglas looked puzzled.

"I dinnae think so. Haven't seen ye all day; been busy helping here." Now, Sidney was puzzled.

"But… I saw _you!_ At, uh… what's the name? Um… the big station! I was singing, and you told me to stop! That really wasn't very nice, you know."

"Ye might just be mixing me up with someone else, lad." Sidney faltered, now unsure of himself.

"Oh… Maybe I am. What was I doing again?" Sidney honked his horn and rolled away, not realizing a workman had uncoupled him from his trucks. He also didn't realize that he was being switched onto the middle line. Douglas frowned as Sidney rolled out of sight, clearly troubled by what he had said.

* * *

Sidney slowly rolled along the main line, very confused.

"I was supposed to be taking something somewhere, wasn't I? Oh, that's obvious, silly old me… But what and where?" He pondered this for a long time when, suddenly, he heard a deep-toned whistle. Sidney smiled.

"Oh, it's that engine again! Maybe he can help me!" The engine pulled up alongside Sidney, looking surprised to see him. Sidney grinned. "Hello!" To his surprise, Donald glared at him.

"What are ye doing oot here?" Sidney looked hurt.

"I don't know… I was trying to ask _you_ that, actually. Can you help me?" Donald scoffed.

"I shouldn't have tae keep track of ye, ye silly diesel. That's yer job." He sped up, quickly outpacing Sidney. "Get off tae main line and stop being where ye dinnae belong!" he called back, annoyed. Sidney coughed on Donald's dust as the black tender engine stormed into the distance.

"Oh… He wasn't very nice that time… What am I doing wrong?" Just then, another whistle sounded out, but this one wasn't deep. It sounded like… "Gordon?!" Sure enough, up ahead was Gordon with the express, coming towards Sidney fast. Gordon gaped as he saw the blue diesel in his way.

"Get out of the way, Sidney!" Gordon cried, whistling even louder to keep his attention. Sidney panicked, reversing as quickly as he could. Sidney looked back as Wellsworth came into view. He panted as he desperately tried to speed up. However, Gordon was much faster than Sidney, and the space between the two grew shorter and shorter.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no…" Sidney repeated nervously. He slammed his eyes shut as Gordon was almost right in front of him. Luckily for Sidney, the signalman hurriedly switched the points, and Sidney rolled back onto the outermost line. The points were switched back, and Gordon thundered through the station, his franticness subsiding as he gave a nasty glare at Sidney.

"Watch what you're doing!" he called back crossly. Sidney groaned.

"It's just not my day, is it?" he mumbled sadly.

"Och aye, could happen to anyone, laddie. Dinnae fash yersel." Sidney's eyes widened; he recognized that voice. He looked over and, as the last coach from Gordon's express passed through the station, he saw what he thought was the same black tender engine, who was still at the platform with his coaches.

"B-But… I… You…" Sidney stammered, too shocked to properly say anything. Douglas raised an eyebrow.

"Ye okay, laddie? Gordon didnae scare ye, did he? Dinnae mind him, he's just full of hot air." But Sidney wasn't thinking about Gordon. He glanced from Douglas to the direction in which Donald had taken his trucks in.

"H-How did you get here?" Sidney asked nervously.

"Just came from Brendam. Ye know where that is, don't ye?" Sidney had been to the docks a few times, but he had forgotten exactly how to get there. That wasn't his concern, however.

"I think so… Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Douglas replied, baffled.

"But you… were just…" Sidney groaned in frustration and raced away, this time on the outermost line. Before Douglas could say anything, his guard blew the whistle and he had to leave.

"What's gotten into him?" Douglas muttered as he started rolling away from the station.

* * *

Sidney slowed down when he thought Douglas couldn't see him anymore. He stopped to collect his thoughts.

"I just don't get it… How can that engine be so nice but so mean at the same time? It's quite a mystery…" Sidney then gasped as he got an idea. "A _mystery!_ That's it! Maybe Paxton can help me! He's sure to know something!" He honked his horn and hurriedly sped up, now excited.

* * *

At the Dieselworks, Paxton was cheerfully shunting some trucks when a familiar horn blared in the distance.

"Paxton! Paxton!" Sidney called frantically as he hurried into the yard. Paxton looked up.

"Sidney! Hello!" To Paxton's surprise, Sidney looked worried. "What's wrong, Sidney?" Sidney came to a halt, panting.

"I don't quite know, Paxton. I've been seeing strange things lately." Paxton's eyes lit up.

"Oh! What sort of things?" he asked, a bit too eagerly. Sidney frowned as he tried to remember.

"Well, uh… There's this engine that keeps appearing everywhere! One moment he's one place, the next he's somewhere else! It's all very confusing…" Paxton gasped excitedly.

"I know _exactly_ what this is!" Sidney raised an eyebrow.

"You do?"

"Yes! It's something called teleportation!" Sidney just looked confused.

"What's… tele… whatever you said?"

" _Teleportation_ , Sidney! It's when you go from place to place instantly!" Paxton grew more and more excited the further he went on. "That engine you're talking about must be _teleporting!_ " Sidney gulped.

"T-Teleporting? I don't like the sound of that…"

"Just think of it!" Paxton went on, oblivious to how nervous Sidney was becoming, "Being able to go _anywhere_ instantly! Why, you'd never be able to get away from them!" Paxton honked his horn and rolled away. "Bye, Sidney! See you later!" Sidney, however, wasn't as jovial.

"A-Anywhere? Oh dear… " He looked around worriedly to see if the "teleporting engine" had materialized at the Dieselworks. "He must be following me! I-I better hide!" Sidney, now panicking, started scurrying around the Dieselworks to try and find a hiding place.

* * *

Meanwhile, Douglas had turned around and was on his way back up the line, still worrying about Sidney.

"The lad said he saw me at tae big station… but I wasnae… and tae only engine that looks like me is Donnie…" he murmured as he pulled into Crovan's Gate.

"Are ye talking to yersel again, Dougie?" Douglas glanced over to see a smirking Donald with a goods train at the other platform. Douglas rolled his eyes.

"Nae time for jokes, Donnie. I've got tae ask ye something." Donald raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Have ye seen Sidney at all today?" Donald snorted dismissively.

"Aye, I saw the wee lad a few times earlier. Ditzy diesel had nae idea where he was. Why dae ye ask?"

"Sidney's been acting a wee bit strangely lately. Was just wondering if ye knew anything aboot it." Donald scoffed.

"That wee diesel's always been strange. Nae surprising, ye just worry tae much." he retorted.

"I dinnae! Tae lad could get himself into trouble," Douglas replied curtly, "Take things a little more seriously, Donnie, will ye?" Donald sighed in defeat.

"Fine. If it means so much to ye, Dougie, I'll talk to him if I see him." Donald whistled and began puffing away. "Nae like he'll remember what I say…" he added huffily. Douglas watched him leave, unsure if the weight on his boiler got worse or not.

* * *

Dart hummed to himself as he bumped trucks about the Dieselworks yard. He was enjoying the methodical rhythm as he collected a line of them when he suddenly felt a bump.

"Huh?" Dart reversed from his trucks and squinted; on the other side of his trucks was a cowering blue diesel. Dart groaned immediately once he realized who it was. "Sidney, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Dart! It's you! I thought you were the teleporting engine!" Dart raised an eyebrow.

"The what?"

"T-The teleporting engine! I think I made him mad; I don't want him seeing me!" Dart stared in bewilderment for a moment before chuckling.

"That's a good one, Sid. I almost thought you were serious. Now, can you move? You're in my way."

"N-No!" Sidney stammered nervously. Dart spluttered.

"What? Come on, Sid, this isn't funny anymore." He tried pushing Sidney out of the way, but Dart's wheels merely spun helplessly as Sidney refused to budge. Den rolled curiously alongside.

"What's going on here, Dart?" he asked. Dart panted, finally giving up.

"No idea. Sid 'ere made some joke about a 'teleporting engine' and now 'e won't move." Den glanced between the terrified Sidney and the annoyed Dart.

"Well, er… I don't think Sidney was joking."

"What?"

"I mean, um… He might be serious." Dart stared blankly at Den.

"You mean 'e really thinks there's some spooky engine out there that's trying to get 'im? Dizzy diesels, 'e's been with Pax too much." Suddenly, Dart's frustrated glare morphed into a smirk; he had an idea.

"Sid, look out!" he called, trying his best to sound alarmed. "I think I see the tele...thing engine coming, and 'e doesn't look very happy!" Sidney gasped in horror.

"He's here?! Oh no!" Without another word, Sidney took off like a rocket. As soon as he was out of sight, Dart honked his horn and continued shunting. Den gave him a disapproving look.

"That trick of yours wasn't very nice, Dart."

"But Den, it wasn't a trick! Think of it as… a joke! Everyone likes jokes!" Dart called back. Den sighed.

* * *

Sidney's wheels pounded the rails as he reversed down the line to Vicarstown. As he rolled cab-first into the large station, several engines could be seen bustling about, but none looked like the vague engine that still remained in his memory. Nonetheless, Sidney couldn't help but remain paranoid as he frantically hid behind a train of oil tankers.

"I mustn't let him see me, I mustn't let him see me…" he repeated nervously to himself, shutting his eyes. He waited for the "teleporting engine" to appear, but it didn't. Sidney slowly opened an eye and cautiously rolled out of his hiding spot. He looked around, but the "teleporting engine" was nowhere to be found.

"Maybe he forgot about me! I'd like to forget about him too." Almost immediately after he said this, among the chorus of whistles in the station, there was a familiar deep-toned one. Sidney's face paled as Donald rolled in, seemingly looking for something.

"Oh." Just before Donald glanced in Sidney's direction, he reversed back into his hiding spot. Donald came to a halt at the platform, the only thing preventing him from seeing Sidney being the oil tankers. Sidney didn't dare breathe, hoping that Donald would lose interest and leave. Suddenly, the oil tankers began to move; little did Sidney know that Stanley had come to take them away.

"Oh no!" Sidney cried. He tried to follow the tankers, but it was too late by then; Donald had already seen him. Sidney put on a forced grin and Donald quickly looked away.

"Dinnae know what's made Dougie so worked up," he muttered, annoyed, "wee lad is tae same as he always is. Dougie must be imagining things." Upon being uncoupled, Donald blew his whistle and rolled away to turn around. Sidney let out a sigh of relief.

"Phew! Glad that's over!"

"Glad what's over, Sidney…?" Sidney glanced over and gaped; alongside him was Douglas, raising a curious eyebrow at him. Sidney gulped.

"I… um…" Abruptly, Sidney raced away, crying out in terror. Douglas blinked in shock before starting after him. Suddenly, there was a shrill whistle and Connor roared into the junction with a rake of coaches, cutting Douglas off.

"Sidney, stop!" But Douglas' words fell on deaf ears; Sidney didn't plan on stopping anytime soon. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't have a say in the matter. Due to being so scared, Sidney wasn't looking where he was going, and didn't see Donald up ahead, having turned around and heading home. Donald gaped as Sidney came rushing towards him.

"Sidney, what are ye doing?!" Sidney only became more terrified, believing the same engine was still talking to him.

"Just leave me alone!" he wailed. Donald tried speeding up to avoid Sidney, but it was too late. Right on the points, Sidney crashed into Donald's tender coupling, tipping both Donald and his tender over. Sidney continued rolling, landing on top of him and having an uncomfortable view of the town below. He opened his eyes before looking around in bewilderment.

"Why am I up here?"

"Ye muckle nuisance! All I wanted was to rest!" Donald burst out angrily. Sidney looked down and immediately started to panic when he realized who was beneath him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he babbled, "Please, mister teleporting engine, I didn't mean to!" As Sidney continued to ramble, Donald's anger fizzled into confusion.

"Slow down, laddie! I'm not gonna hurt ye; nae like I can even if I wanted tae," he added dully.

"Y-You aren't? But why have you been teleporting and following me all day?" Donald stared at Sidney.

"...teleporting?"

" _Donnie! Sidney!_ " Both Donald and Sidney were surprised to see a horrified Douglas racing up to the scene of the crash.

"Are ye alright?!"

"Sure, Dougie, a diesel rams into me, denting my boiler and breaking my tender coupling, but aye, I'm just fine!" Donald snapped back sarcastically.

"Was only asking, Donnie, nae need to be mad."

"It's hard nae to _be_ mad!" As the twins were talking, Sidney stared in horror at Donald, then at Douglas, then back again.

"You're… in… both places at the _same time!_ " Douglas stopped and glanced at Donald.

"What's he talking aboot?" Donald rolled his eyes.

"I dinnae ken, he said something aboot teleporting tae. Starting to think ye're right aboot him; maybe he has a loose radiator." Douglas thought about his twin had said and eventually gasped.

"Nae wonder he's all confused! He thinks we're one in tae same!"

"Because you are!" Sidney put in stubbornly, "You can't fool me!" The twins shared a look.

"Er, laddie, we're nae some engine that teleports around Sodor; we're twins. I'm Douglas, he's Donald." Sidney blinked.

"...twins? Oh, well... That's just what a teleporting engine would say." Donald gritted his teeth, about to snap when Douglas interrupted.

"Can promise ye we're not, lad. Sit tight, ye two, I'll fetch Rocky." Douglas whistled and rolled away to collect him. Sidney looked down at Donald, then to the reversing Douglas.

"...huh."

It wasn't long before Douglas returned, pushing Rocky and two flatbeds in front. Soon, the cleanup began as Sidney was the first to be cleared from the wreckage. However, the blue diesel was still confused by what Douglas had told him.

"Rocky?" he queried as the red crane started lifting him up into the air, "Is that… engine really two engines?" Rocky raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, of course they are. They're twins."

"So… they're not teleporting." Rocky blinked.

"...no? Wherever did you get that idea from?"

"Um…" Sidney noticed a butterfly flying by and gasped. "Oh, look! A butterfly!" Sidney pretended to be enthralled with it so Rocky wouldn't prod further. Rocky chuckled and placed Sidney on a flatbed before returning to work. The moment Rocky turned around, Sidney looked down at his buffers in shame.

Before long, the accident had been cleared and Douglas shunted Rocky into the yard, leaving Donald, his tender and Sidney loaded on their flatbeds to wait for him to return. Sidney was noticeably quiet, now feeling very silly.

"Um… Douglas, was it?" he whispered at last. Donald grunted.

"Donald, laddie."

"Oh, sorry. Um… I'm also sorry for being so scared of you, thinking you were teleporting." Donald's expression softened.

"Aye, no bother… aside from all tae dents." An awkward silence ensued as Donald considered what to say next. "I'm sorry too, laddie. Ye're nae so bad, but I've been nothing but rude to ye." Sidney raised an eyebrow.

"You were rude to me?" Donald was stunned into silence as Douglas backed down onto the three flatbeds.

"Right, let's get ye two off to the works!" Douglas said before whistling and starting off. As the train got moving, Douglas noticed his twin's silence.

"Did something happen, Donnie?" he asked curiously.

"Er… nae, Dougie. Nothing at all." Douglas chuckled knowingly.

A few weeks later, Sidney had been repaired and was back to work. He rolled into the shunting yard, honking his horn at Donald, who had also been mended, and Douglas, who were double-heading a goods train. The twins each whistled back before rolling away. Sidney smiled to himself.

"I guess Paxton was wrong; there really is no such thing as a teleporting engine after…" He trailed off, noticing a small, dark yellow tank engine rolling up on one side. The tank engine snickered as another engine that looked practically identical rolled up on the other side.

"...all." Sidney gulped.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Phew! This took a lot longer than I thought it would; started this in March, hoped to finish by June but well you can guess how that went. Scheduling aside, it was fun focusing on Sidney for a change. I don't think I'll be using him a whole lot but he'll pop up from time to time, he's a charming character I feel. The other main players are the Scottish Twins, which kind've unintentionally ended up becoming much more distinct from each other in this, which I don't mind necessarily as it was a lot of fun to write. I also liked writing Percy's brief appearance, I'm planning on writing him a bit more CGI-esque in the future, or at the very least more of a blend of his wholesome modern persona mixed with his overworked and cheeky original one, but that's something I'll have to work on as time goes on, I suppose. Hopefully it won't take as long to write the next story, I want to be somewhat productive this summer. Anyway, thank you for reading, hope you liked it, and see you next time!


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